Beloved: A Story of Evil
by thewanderingoutsider
Summary: Two years after Tritannus' banishment, something is rotten in the state of Sparks: Bloom. In the growing fog of dangerously whispered games, broken regrets begin to resurface as distance becomes unbearable and inevitable. For what is really going on with Bloom may be far more worrying than anyone could have anticipated. First part of the Beloved Saga. #Rewrite in progress
1. A Toothless Dragon

**~Chapter One: A Toothless Dragon~**

There was something about evenings in Sparks that was more than just magical.

Daphne was convinced of this as she wandered the shadowing halls of her family's palace back to her chambers. Her hair and snowy gold-trimmed gown shimmering in the fading sunlight. The beauty of her homeland continued to delight and inspire her, as it did when she had been a small child.

So as she strolled she began, like she always had for the past two decades, to reflect on her situation.

About over a year ago (and close approaching two) she was still a detached spirit kept to the waters of Lake Roccaluce. Then, would you believe that after being kidnapped by a power-hungry triton prince and a Sirenix wish later…she had flesh, bones and muscle once more. And she was very much alive.

Normally that would be more than enough to keep her with a light heart and a content mind.

Normally.

Daphne felt a slight chill as the gentle breeze turned cold and hollow.

For a moment, she wondered if her time as a bodiless nymph enabled her emotions to influence the environment around her, maybe to a minute level. As she had no body to physically make them.

But the longer she turned the reflections in her mind, she kept thinking about her powerful, young…saviour that had made this all possible.

Her little sister, Bloom.

Daphne frowned, so slightly, so sadly, even at the thought of her name.

To think so much could change in such a seemingly short span of time.

She thought of when Bloom first began her journey to discover her identity, she seemed so simple.

An awkward but endearing 16 year old learning magic, making friends and finding self-confidence. While fighting and working towards her aspirations, Bloom reached so hard to her in her dreams. She was so sincere and happy at every opportunity to speak to her sibling, especially when she could outside of duty. And Bloom would always talk of how they could be together again, like an actual family. That was when ghostly meetings were rare and less.

Then Daphne regained her body.

It felt like after that point only distance between the two sisters grew. The more they saw of one another, the less sincere they became, the less happy the meetings as well and far more irritable.

The physical reality was so different, and Daphne found herself wondering about who her sister really was.

All that remained of the squirming babe that she loved to hold in her arms was a stranger.

Or maybe…

…Just maybe…she had never really known her at all.

The strange animosity she now experienced with her sibling made Daphne think of how much she actually saw of her little sister's life.

Daphne's hereditary instincts allowed her to sense any living members of her bloodline anywhere in time and space. But while that was possible, she could never actually look into her relatives' lives without the use of her magical powers. And her disembodied state obviously had effects on her magic. She could only interact whenever Bloom felt very strongly about seeing her, or at certain emotional influxes, and only when Bloom used magic in a similar vein as her sister.

In truth, the only time Daphne really saw and interacted with her sister was when she used her power for the first time. When she was 16, when her "best friend" Stella crashed into her common life, with ogres and witches right on her tail.

That left the rest of her early life as a worrisome mystery. And now Daphne was quite convinced that whatever Bloom did with her time outside of her friends and family, was probably just as troubling. Of course Daphne didn't exactly know how much time Bloom sought for her friends nowadays…but now with her body back and her magic fully flexible, she could probably spy on them all and see what was actually happening.

But she respected people's need for privacy, perhaps to a fault.

No…she wouldn't spy on other people, not if it was very-ever-so-much-seriously necessary. And she still couldn't follow Bloom even with her fully restored abilities, the same rules applied as it had when she was a spirit-nymph. Something she couldn't understand and frustrated her…

Because she could never sense Bloom's feelings anymore.

Had Bloom found a way to supress her feelings? Why was she now trying so hard to hide things?

Why should she be hiding things?

"You have to admit, her behaviour is most peculiar."

Daphne stopped quietly, after hearing her own thoughts voiced aloud by an older, male one. Minding how her shadow might betray her presence, she deftly came behind a pillar. And she peered cautiously at the two figures making conversation in the small open courtyard. One of them Daphne recognized as a royal advisor, constantly at her father's side. The other she could only tell as one of the commanders of the royal guard by his ceremonial uniform.

"Define peculiar." the commander said in a bored tone.

"Don't play coy, Arlen. You've heard the whispers running around!"

"All of which hardly matter. Crown Princess Bloom attends all royal functions and meetings internal and external, on time and well groomed as a princess should be. Not to mention her etiquette and behaviour is most appropriate."

The advisor gave a stamp. "Are you really this dense, or are you deliberately trying to infuriate me? This is no laughing matter!" he hissed impatiently.

Daphne wasn't sure if she'd ever get used to hearing Bloom referred to as the Crown Princess of Sparks. After spending most of her life being groomed and prepared for the role, it had instilled in Daphne a sense of responsibility and purpose…worth even. Now she was just a regular elevated member of the royal family, and while she appreciated the lack of attention, it had left her with strange feelings.

As she processed what she was hearing silently, Daphne watched as the commander Arlen fiddled with his sword hilt. He was clearly getting tired of the conversation. "If you want to discuss like a sad midwife, go find some servants to sate your lust for such shallow talk. Don't waste my time."

"Shhh! Not so loud you don't know who's listening!" the advisor shook his hands worriedly.

But Arlen was done. "Ulrich, please. Talk to me when you actually need to. We're both busy men." and with that, the commander moved to leave.

Ulrich grabbed Arlen's arm. "You're one of the few least-opinionated people quite close to the royal family. And you hear and see a lot more things more than I do." Arlen's eyes were rolling. "Please, doesn't it at least concern you that the king and queen are so blind to all of this?"

Daphne was biting her lips. The discord and worry she was experiencing had pervaded the royal court, and perhaps even reached down to the roots of her people.

And it was all because of Bloom.

"Blind to what?" Arlen slapped the advisor's hand off his arm.

"Bloom's prolonged visits to Eraklyon, both of a professional and rumoured personal nature. And her frequenting disappearances; she is far from Sparks more often than a Crown Princess should be. And no one knows where she goes, royal watchdogs and have failed to locate her continuously."

"Ulrich…"

"Gods, Arlen, haven't you heard all the spite going on in inter-realm senates and meetings? None of the realms can stop speculating about what she could be getting up to!"

"Any realm would be musing on the Crown Princess of a formerly powerful realm which has been considered dead for twenty years Ulrich. Not to mention she seemingly came from nowhere."

Daphne's eyes widened a little. She couldn't believe she hadn't thought of that.

And Ulrich looked taken aback. "Are you suggesting that the other realms…are not just threatened by Bloom, but Sparks as a realm?"

Arlen just looked at him. "Who wouldn't be?"

Ulrich stared at Arlen for a moment, stroking his chin, "And the king and queen? Are they aware of this?"

The commander looked into thin air distractedly. Now he looked as worried as the advisor did earlier.

"Arlen this is–"

"And will you be the one to tell them? After twenty years of torment? Ulrich, you and I and the rest of the population of Sparks was encased in obsidian, but in a dreamless sleep. We felt nothing, even when the Ancestral Witches must have possessed our bodies from time to time. But those two…I can't even begin to think of what agony they must have gone through."

"The other realms would consider this." but Arlen just shook his head.

"The other realms are scared Ulrich. There are just too many variables; there is no guarantee that we wouldn't destroy the peaceful balance the realms have enjoyed for the last two decades by our return."

Ulrich opened his mouth to speak but the commander continued. "And their young daughter isn't blind to this, she knows this fear, I know she does. I'm certain that is why Crown Princess Bloom is acting more carefully, cautiously and guarded because of it. But there is only so much she can do Ulrich, and gods she's just a child. A babe in the woods in all of this."

"Are you making reference to her upbringing?"

"She spent her childhood living such an ordinary existence with loving foster parents as I've heard. I doubt she ever dreamed of dealing with this kind of political and royal intrigue."

Daphne pinched herself after hearing those words.

How could she have been so blind and misinterpreted her sister? Maybe Bloom was just worried about all of this politicking, scared even. Just thinking about it made Daphne feel that should have paid more attention to what the court was whispering amongst themselves.

"And she carries herself quite well though, for one who was not royally trained from birth." Ulrich added.

"Maybe it's in her blood, instinct? She comes from old noble stock."

"No I don't think so. There's just this nagging feeling I have."

"To my shame, I have to agree with you."

"Really?"

But Daphne had heard enough, now she thought the two men were really going into idle gossip. There was only one thing on her mind, one overpowering feeling…

She had to see her sister, now. Just give her a hug, let her know that somebody close was there for her.

She wouldn't let herself think anything else.

Becoming mindful of her surroundings once more, she snuck to a door back in the unexposed hallway hidden from the courtyard which would lead into the main building of the palace.

"Do you even know where these rumours even began?"

That was the last line of conversation Daphne remembered clearly amidst the murmurs as she began running to her sister's quarters. Flying.

Some corridors and staircases later she reached her room. Taking a few breaths to compose herself…

She tried the door.

It was locked.

"I'm sorry your highness, but your sister is not available right now."

Daphne jerked at the sound, and found a servant staring at her.

"Oh, uh…Lucas was it?" she forced out a little breathlessly.

Lucas gave a slight bow, and without even a prompt added "She will be staying overnight in Eraklyon following a series of…business meetings." Daphne didn't like the way Lucas looked at her as he said that. "But if you must speak with the Crown Princess so desperately I can pass an official message."

"Oh. No, that will not be necessary."

Lucas looked at Daphne oddly for a brief moment again. Then said, "If you have any current engagements your highness, then I can–"

"No I do not, I will retire to my chambers, and I do not need directions on how to get there. Thank you." Daphne curtsied slightly and she walked off.

"I will just remind your highness that another servant will call on you when dinner is served." Lucas called after her.

Daphne wasn't paying attention though; she was getting lost in her own thoughts.

Lately she had been thinking so much about what she thought were problems caused by her sister, she hadn't really been thinking if there was something genuinely troubling Bloom…or her own problems for that matter.

Her own problems…did she even…

No she wasn't even going to think about it.

No.

But this insight into the state of Sparks compared to the other realms was new to her, and troubling. Yet above all of that she was more concerned about how Bloom must have been reacting to all of it. All of the gossip circulating around her little sibling. What was it all for? And why was she so guarded about it?

And that was then Daphne decided.

She would get to the bottom of this so-called-business.


	2. Preparing a Cracked Looking Glass

**~Chapter 2: Preparing a Cracked Looking Glass~**

The next morning came in all its splendour as it always had in Sparks. The sun just peeping above the horizon, flowers blossoming, birds singing and flying everywhere…

Only this time Daphne wasn't paying attention, she had things to do.

Rising from slumber quite early, she prepared herself for the day with a couple of maids.

As a regular princess, her retinue of servants wasn't as large as her younger sister's. She didn't even have an official scheduler. Well, technically she did have one, but he rarely ever showed up on time and Daphne had her suspicions that he was off hammered somewhere. She wasn't exactly sure what being hammered meant, but she had heard some servants complain about it, and it clearly was slang for something shameful.

She never mentioned it to her parents. She was certain they would have fired him and got her a proper, dutiful one. But his appointment to her had given her an idea of one thing.

It showed the lack of detailed attention the court, if not the rest of the realms, probably had for her. When she came back, of course there was a little celebration, but no one really pushed for her to have higher duties. She was a heroine most would consider past her glory days after all. And Daphne thought that was a good start, as she began her personal investigation into her sister's troublesome affair.

Her servants also always looked like they would be much happier doing something else; dismissing them for the day was easy enough.

She looked in the mirror a touched her hair a little. And she was ready to begin.

She sighed regardless. Daphne subconsciously knew that being sneaky was never her forte. Whenever she had tried to run away, explore or hide for whatever childish reasons she had at the time, either the servants or her parents would find her. Mostly the servants; and they would tease her for being so honest about her hiding places.

But things were different now; all that time as a spirit-nymph had taught her something about not being noticed. And she was certain she could get away with whatever she was planning to do.

Though, she realised that she didn't have a clue as to how or where to begin; at least not without drawing a lot of unwanted attention. Daphne just wasn't devious in that way. She was also worried about what dangerous things she might uncover, and most of all she didn't really know what she was getting herself into. At this point, she was expecting the worst.

Then she thought of the conversation she had overheard between advisor Ulrich and commander Arlen last night. Perhaps she could hear more interesting amongst the nobles…but it was morning, there would be more servants and guards about. And she wasn't going to wait until late evening to start her search for information.

Hmm…

Maybe, she could observe and listen to the gossip of a group of aristocrats, in a bit more of a formal and proper setting. Yes, no one would notice her nor care for that matter. They all had better things to do.

Except, she didn't have a schedule of the royal activities for the day.

Hammered scheduler.

Bollocks.

She tapped her mirror in thought. Then…

Then she remembered why she recognized advisor Ulrich. He was one of the counsellors responsible for overseeing the allocation and arrangement for the daily work schedules; for the royal family and important aristocrats. That was what he told her when she first met him as a small child, years ago in a lesson about organisational processes in the royal government.

If she went to him, she would find out what was going on for nearly all of the nobility for the day.

But going to him directly would probably alert him to something being amiss. She gathered that much listening to his almost-spastic worry session with that commander.

The schedules would most likely be kept in a physical format in his office.

But he would be in his office…with a couple of his secretaries. Maybe she could distract them with something?

No, not only was she hopeless at small talk dedicated to distraction, she also wanted to take her time in looking at the rosters, since she wasn't really sure what venue to turn up for. She didn't want to join a royal session that would make her search for information most obvious.

Thinking of this made Daphne also remember that today was most likely a regular royal day. There were no outstanding activities or events; otherwise her maids would have told her so.

And that meant that most of the aristocracy and staff would still be having their personal breakfasts; or starting to have them, after getting the necessary items and materials delivered to their respective departments. That also included schedules.

And that was how Daphne's inquest into her sister's affairs began.

_"You can do this Daphne."_ she whispered to herself as she opened the door to the advisor's work chambers.

She opened the door as quietly as possible into the reception room. The curtains undrawn; a couple of desks for the receptionists who were not in yet, much to her relief. She briskly moved to the advisor's inner office. It was neat, with a couple of small bookshelves, a main desk…

And blank walls where all the schedules probably would have been.

Daphne was internally slapping herself as she approached the advisor's desk, she was clearly too early. But then she saw a lone paper on his desk.

It was a series of notes and scrawled dot points about an open court at precisely 10 am of that morning.

An open court meant nearly all the nobles would turn up to discuss local and foreign affairs, concerns and such things amongst themselves and maybe to their rulers. She wouldn't look out of place at a meeting such as that. And the things she might hear…

At that moment she thought she could hear some footsteps, but it didn't matter, she had found something to work with. She exited the advisor's chambers and swiftly returned to hers, content to entertain herself until the time came to attend the court. She had also taken note where it was being held: the Golden Hall, or as it was better known, the Grand Throne Room.

The Golden Hall was the chief throne room in the palace of Sparks and the crowning jewel of its ancient construction and architecture. The palace had five different throne rooms, which facilitated different kinds of courts. The Fair Hall or the Embassy Throne Room was the most known one, since it could facilitate access for representatives from across the Magical Dimension quite comfortably, whether from land, air or sea. The Golden Hall could also do this, but it was rarely open to outsiders and only for extremely important occasions. Surprisingly though, the Golden Hall was in constant use for the people of Sparks.

Daphne always felt her breath was taken away when she walked through its giant brazen doors. The room was a long, lighted and carefully- chiselled cavern with its mighty pillars, murals and grand windows. Two long pools were located on both sides of the vast chamber, directing the visitor's gaze to the tall thrones high atop a small pyramid of stairs. Two heftily sculpted warriors were on either side of the thrones, and suspended atop behind them was a bust of The Great Dragon. The people busy within were dwarfed by its decorative majesty.

The last time she had seen it, the hall's golden splendour had faded and been replaced with cold and ice, lost to time. That was when Bloom first came to Sparks seeking her lost flame.

May she never experience that again.

"Daphne?"

She jerked at the mention of her name as she wandered near one of the shallow pools. She recognized the voice though, firm, wise and mild it was…

"Mother? Oh, hello!"

Queen Marion was wearing a regal blue dress and a decorative crown, her hair shimmering like burnished crimson. She was just as beautiful as Daphne remembered her when she was smaller.

She was grateful that her sister had also been able to see their mother like this. Both of her parents.

"Daphne, what are you doing here?" Marion asked gently. "Your attendance isn't required at open courts, dear. Surely you have more pressing matters to attend to."

"Not…really. Um, what I mean is–"

Marion took her daughter's hand into hers. "Daphne it's alright, if it is your wish to attend this court you are welcome to preside over it with your father and I."

"Well I–"

"Your majesties?"

The two royals turned to the speaker. A thin bearded man in the garb of an aristocratic governor bowed low, followed closely by a servant.

"Am I interrupting something?" he questioned most reverently.

"Not at all Lord Tryst." Marion offered her hand and gestured Daphne to do the same. "You know of my first-born, Daphne?"

"Why of course! And what may I ask is the occasion that the elder Princess Daphne graces us with her presence?"

Daphne quietly noted how the eyes of the nobles suddenly began resting on her as well as her mother. Lord Tryst had addressed her a bit too loudly.

Or maybe deliberately?

"None at all Lord Tryst. My daughter wishes to share with her parents presidency of this court."

Lord Tryst frowned slightly. "Is Princess Daphne now required to fill the seat of our absent Crown Princess?"

Daphne struggled to her contain her shock. "No, of course not!" she said hurriedly.

"The Crown Princess is not required to sit at open courts my lord." Marion cut in quite strongly.

"Perhaps not, but those whom she will soon rule have seen her face little. There are…some of us in the court that would feel more at ease if she graced us with her presence more often."

Marion folded her hands; Daphne could tell she was getting unsettled. "We would all enjoy my younger daughter's presence immensely. But circumstances do not permit us such a joy."

"What circumstances precisely?" Lord Tryst pressed.

At this, the servant stepped forward a little, "The Eraklyon court has announced that Crown Princess Bloom is not expected to return to Sparks at least a week from today. What circumstances could engage her so far from home?"

"What?" Daphne could not help it slip, and at that the court murmured. And she recognized the servant, it was Lucas.

Everywhere there was mention of Bloom and Eraklyon he just seemed to be there, with ill intent. Daphne was beginning to dislike him immensely.

Lord Tryst however, patted his thigh disapprovingly and the servant stepped back a little. "Excuse him your majesty, he is a bit too _eager_ to voice the facts of your daughter's engagements. It–"

"The Crown Princess need not explain the purpose or nature of her engagements and business, Lord Tryst. It is her right as our future ruler."

Daphne turned to the talker. It was an older lady in gentle amber.

"Oh, can we not rely on you to speak in such highly regarded defense of our royal family. You deserve a medal, truly." Lord Tryst responded quite sarcastically.

The court smirked and whispered at this. But hushed as the lady said nothing in response and then defused the situation.

"If the Crown Princess does nothing that virtually harms the existence of our realm or anyone else, we are not to be the judge of it. And has she, my lord?" she continued.

Daphne sighed inwardly, but when she looked at her mother her expression remained unrelieved. In fact, it had even become harsh.

"Thank you, Lady Virginia." Queen Marion said quite coldly.

Daphne found it strange that the aristocrats, and her mother included, treated that noble with quiet hostility. But she did not have time to think, as her father approached them with two of the commanders of the Royal Guard.

"Marion! Daphne!"

"Dear."

"Father."

"What occasion brings us together?" he asked after embracing them appropriately.

"Well…"

Daphne began to zone out and listen little to her parents speak. She watched Lord Tryst glare at Lady Virginia and then at Lucas before bowing out and away. Lady Virginia simply moved on, while different groups of nobles and servants talked quietly or looked at her and her parents most curiously, and quite sadly…

Daphne no longer really wanted to mingle and hear what the other nobles had to say, or what unspoken, malicious gossip lay there. She hadn't really tried to fish for information, and she had already heard more than enough than she could bear.

When her parents had finished their exchange and gestured to her, she swiftly followed them up the stairs and to the high thrones. And took her place next to her mother.

She didn't like what she saw and heard about her sister. And she didn't like all the shiftiness that surrounded her family, herself included. Not at all.

The only thing that would make it better was if she saw Bloom, personally. And spoke to her about her feelings about her family, her realm, her duty. All of it.

Like her little sister tried a few months ago. If only she hadn't been so blind and at least tried to have listened.

"I declare the court open!" her father said gesturing to the assembled nobility.

_"Oh Bloom, why aren't you here?"_ Daphne thought to herself as she looked out the window hopelessly.


	3. Of Things Scratching and Fraying

**~Chapter 3: Of Things Scratching and Fraying~**

Light. Bloom could only think of how much she had begun to hate it.

_"Well, in fairness, only a particular light."_ she mused as she lay on the bed; watching how the glow of the afternoon cast long shadows on the walls and ceiling.

She loathed the light of the suns and moons across the planets she had come to know. The strong, brilliant light that made morning and dusk. The light that signalled the end of a day and the start of a new one. The pale light on a dark night.

The new day brought nothing wonderful for her. Nothing wonderful but _work_. So much of it. The nights were far from restful and filled with labour. And sleep…sleep was no reprieve of daily pains and exhaustion. Though, she hardly dreamt of anything anymore.

Once upon a time, the cycles of day and night across the lands of the Magical Dimension fascinated her. It really did after Stella whisked her away from the life she had known on Earth and into a world full of…_magic_. Going to a fairy college, making friends, fighting monsters, contending with only youthful issues of small consequence. The only real worries she had, most of the time, were what she was going to wear, if she would find her long-lost family and how much Sky loved her.

The only worries she let herself have. She had let herself live such a carefree existence for the last few years.

A lifetime ago nowadays.

Bloom made herself check the watch strapped to her wrist. It was 5 in the afternoon, about three hours from the time she just threw herself on the bed and let fatigue overcome her.

She had to get up. Get up.

Up she rose groggily, hardly refreshed. Who was she kidding, she was never going to be refreshed anymore. Her head felt light but her chest was heavy, and her muscles ached.

Then she saw reflection in the tinted windows of the room. You knew you were in a magical land when you could see your figure perfectly in a tinted window.

So Bloom looked at herself.

Her eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot. Her peachy skin looked like the whitewashed walls of a hospital, and her long hair had lost its bounce. Not to mention it had become an absolute hell to maintain; knotted and tangled all the time, no matter how many times she brushed it. No magical spell tamed the mess properly either. She was this close to chopping all of it off.

She slowly brought her hands to cradle her face, her skin felt parched and veins protruded her flesh, particularly around her hands. And she felt so unclean, so disgusting.

But that was it.

"Enough." she said aloud.

Nothing was going to change, but she could at least bear it better.

She rapped on the door. There was a rustle of paper and a chair dragged on the floor before her appointed servant opened it.

"Get the bath ready. I need a wash. Like need it. Not too hot."

She was going to clean all this filth off.

The man said nothing and just moved away from the door; his footsteps echoed down the corridor of the tower that had become Bloom's quarters. She heard the sounds of whooshing steam and falling water as she grabbed long cloths draped on the bed she could use as towels.

The realms of the Magical Dimension could tease the people of Eraklyon for being lofty, war-driven and unemotional, but they did what they had to with little commentary.

She could live with that much.

After some moments, Bloom entered the stone bath room. While much smaller in scale, it was styled in a way that reminded her of the old Roman baths she had seen both in historical books and ruins as a child on Earth.

Earth…

"Go." Bloom felt drained of words but that hardly mattered. Without looking at the man, she threw the cloths she brought on a bronze rack, knowing the other person left with the closing bang of the oaken door.

Her skin prickled as she tore off the layers of her clothing. And she thought as she was naked, how exposed she felt again in the presence of others. How she laid herself so bare just to make things pass quicker.

Alright. She was just going to try and focus on cleaning herself for now.

Though, she didn't know how she was going to make herself look less like a zombie. Before she finally went back to Sparks at the end of the week.

If she reached the end of the week.

Bloom groaned as she settled her back against a bath wall, hugging her knees.

And she thought, and dreamed.

In the few idle moments she had, Bloom's reflections always found their way to the people that had become close to her in the last few years. The friends she had made in Alfea, their boyfriends, her fiancé. Roxy as well on other days. How happy and confident they all were, innocent too in more ways than one. There were times she wished they were there to ease her troubled mind. She missed them.

Then again, she wasn't sure if she should let them worry about her. If it would be the _right_ thing to do… coming back to that reasoning again.

The things that were returning to her; she just couldn't stop herself from thinking that way about everything now.

But still, Bloom considered Sky so much differently now, and this _family _of hers.

So…

All she had to comfort her was the warm bathwater.

And it was good. Soothingly good.

_"Just let it all go Bloom."_ she thought to herself, closing her eyes and regulating her breathing.

_"Let it all go."_

Her mind wandered.

From the worlds of the Magical Dimension, to that small planet where she had first lived. And those she had encountered across the span of her tiny life. The people she had loved. Who she had lost. Who still breathed. But the deaths.

The deaths.

_"You will regret those words one day, little girl. For your own sake, I hope you do."_

Her eyes snapped open. Shuddering, she splashed her face. But as her eyes darted, she quickly realised…

She was no longer alone.

She blinked for a few seconds at the figure occupying the doorway. Tall and sternly refined, flowing green gown, gingerly hair.

Samara of Eraklyon.

"I didn't expect you to bathe so early." the queen began, closing the door behind her.

Bloom swiftly glanced away.

"Afternoon, your majesty." she replied from the water quietly.

"With that said, your curious sleeping patterns may be the ruin of us all, my dear." Samara stung casually, walking the perimeter of the bath.

Bloom refused to look at her; she just stared forward blankly.

Samara stopped behind her. "Are you truly so exhausted of words?"

"No…I am only taking the time to reflect…on…current affairs."

"Is that so?"

Bloom blinked hard.

"Am I being made aware of a situation that was beyond my concern?"

Samara started moving again, "Playing word games are we?"

Bloom felt like a part of her could either splash the queen or drag her into the water. But she knew better than to have that kind of outburst.

And besides, she was only thinking that way because she was tired.

"Why else would you give yourself the difficulty of coming to me?" she forced out.

"Oh why my dear," Samara stopped and looked at her with rehearsed surprise "Should I not be concerned for my son's future bride?"

_"I'm dead." _Bloom thought. _"I can't deal with this shit right now, just let me be dead."_

Samara smirked a little at Bloom's voiceless expression, "But you're like me my dear. You're the kind of woman who likes to get straight down to business, and avoid unnecessary sentimentality. Have you completed the calculations, for the issue I presented to you?"

Bloom looked at Samara's turned back. "There are no calculations to complete. Only information."

"Which you have acquired?"

"More than enough to satisfy your need for it."

Samara couldn't help but smile a little. This Bloom was certainly someone to keep an eye on.

"Then we're expecting a full presentation of your…knowledge on the sensitive matter, tomorrow in the morning. I at least hope you have prepared well for it."

Bloom tilted her head a little, breathing hard, saying nothing.

"Do you require assistance in organizing the information? I can assemble a group of experts to assist you." Samara asked turning round fully, close to the door.

"No."

"Good. I would be very disappointed if you said otherwise." and with that Samara turned to leave.

In her mind, Bloom did not oppose the queen's exit. But there was a surging in her chest, like her heart was in her mouth.

She had not seen Queen Samara privately for a while. She had to ask.

"Your majesty, your son, Prince Sky. Is he–"

"_Crown _Prince Sky, my dear. He is high heir to this realm as you are to Sparks."

"I know, but–"

"My son is engaged in activities that require his absolute attention. He will not be able to see you."

She couldn't help herself. She looked down into the water. She was ready to fall apart. Let the water swallow her up.

"Bloom. Bloom. Look at me."

She raised her eyes slowly up to Samara. Her expression was firm and her arms were folded.

"You have to contain yourself. And you know this because you understand what the stakes are here. You know this Bloom. And you know how I am doing you a favour, how I am respecting the need for your…secrets."

Bloom started biting her lips, her eyes began drifting…

"Look at me Bloom. Do you understand?"

Bloom didn't feel like she could answer.

"Do you understand?" Samara repeated more forcibly, and she was probably going to repeat it until she answered.

"…Y-yes."

"And don't you forget it." Samara emphasized, slamming the door behind her.


	4. Fleeing into Shadows

**~Chapter 4: Fleeing into Shadows~**

_The black birds, gods of death and despair. Crying, screaming._

_Circling, causing havoc and mayhem as they invaded. Everyone panicking, running, in utter confusion._

_And in the blackened chaos, there was a small girl. A small girl who stood against the blackness._

_The greatest of the black birds fell in front of her. The earth beneath it shattering and cracking. It screamed._

_And that small girl reached out and…_

* * *

"Darcy!"

The dark witch yawned, blinking. She rubbed her eyes as smashing sounds thumped muffled in the background.

She'd been having those dreams a lot more often than she thought she should–

"Darcy!"

Exasperated, Darcy turned her head in the direction of the voice. She remained lying down comfortably on the crude wooden bench though, nothing was going to get her–

"Darcy!"

"Oh gods, WHAT! I can't even finish thinking!" she hissed angrily.

Not too far away stood another witch with her hands on her hips. Darcy noted the witch's messy thunderous hair.

Oh well, at least it wasn't–

"It's Icy."

That was when Darcy's expression became long; she turned from Stormy and looked up at the wooden-cavern ceiling above her.

"Darcy…I'm not sure Icy appreciates that we're using one of the old hideouts we used with Baltor." Stormy began carefully, playing with her fingers, "I mean I know we're dodging law enforcement. And you've always been good at being tactical and hiding and all but…"

"Get to the point Stormy, where is she?"

Stormy pouted slightly and with a movement of her hand, opened the entrance of the tree hideout. The muffled smashing sounds Darcy had heard earlier were louder. She could clearly tell it was strong ice being formed then shattered over and over.

"It's like she wants us to be found." Stormy smirked, but that faded the more she looked at Darcy, who was far from bemused.

Darcy had always been quite reserved, unemotional and easily bored. She did disappear a lot, regularly, but neither Stormy nor her other sister really paid heed, she was a dark witch after all.

The Trix might have dropped out of Cloud Tower for…certain reasons, but even they couldn't ignore some important magical facts. They were taught how dark witches were just…different from the rest and they behaved differently. Strangely enough, it was incredibly rare amongst witch-kind to have a witch with a _true_ affinity to dark. Icy was always jealous over this fact when it came to Darcy, that she could be particularly rare and special. But then technically all three of them were that kind of special because of their ancestry.

And Darcy never made fuss of the uniqueness of her magical affinities. She was probably the most level-headed of all three of them; so it kept them together. Let them survive.

It was mainly for that reason Stormy and Icy had become accustomed to giving Darcy considerable space. Even when they were much younger, Darcy would leave them alone for quite a while, the longest time being _three _years. But she always came back one way or another. And Stormy knew, no matter what, she could count on Darcy to get them through anything, she had proven that much with Tritannus.

Ugh. That disgusting affair nearly ruined all three of them. At least wooing Baltor took a team effort; though he seemed to appreciate Darcy's company more than theirs. Most likely because she was such a smart-ass. But what happened with Tritannus seemed felt like the last straw. Icy's prolonged mood swings were almost even more understandable than Darcy's…

Lately it was as if she was fed up with the two of them. Like as if she didn't want to be around them at all. They'd been beaten by the stupid "Winx Club" several times already, maybe it was understandable that Darcy felt sick of being on the losing end all the time. Maybe…

Stormy had been thinking about something more and more the past year. Darcy always carried herself like she could survive on her own, Icy did too and so did she. But Stormy couldn't be dumb about some things, Darcy was probably the only one of them who actually could. Actually survive without anyone and not get caught.

If she ever left them…for good…

It kind of scared her. She never thought about things like that, and she never thought about _anything_ for that matter. The only thing she ever wanted to do was cause chaos and mayhem. It was the only thing she ever knew, the only thing she really cared about. But now…

The growing noise of Icy's repeated ice spells brought her back into the present. They might be in the deep forest of Magix, but someone would be bound to notice them sooner or later. Darcy had already gotten up from the bench; she was going to do something about that noise.

"Such an idiot." Darcy mumbled to herself, fiddling her shades on and putting on a dark coat. She had a small bag as well for some reason.

"Since when did you wear jackets? And where did you–" Darcy shoved Stormy out of the way as she went outside. As she walked out on one of the branches, her stiletto got stuck.

"Gods above." Darcy cursed as she wedged it out. As she did, an ice attack whizzed past her, hitting the top of the hideout tree. Looking nervous, Stormy poked her head out of the doorway. Then they both heard Icy screaming.

She wasn't really screaming, just shouting in exertion as she rapidly fired more ice attacks. Icy sounded like she could become louder though, and that probably wasn't a good thing. As soon as the ice hit a tree or a rock, Icy shot another attack to smash the ice, and did it again over and over. Now however, the ice attacks were becoming quite spastic, Darcy observed as she came down to the bottom. But Icy began attacking one particular tree repeatedly and she hit it with enough shots that the last one cut clean through the trunk, and the tall tree fell with a spectacular crash.

Honestly, if no one noticed that…

Darcy blinked hard and took a deep breath. "Trying to deforest the place are we?"

"Maybe the place needs to be deforested!" Icy snapped.

"Maybe it doesn't."

"Aww, do you care about the environment now? You sound like a proper nature fairy." she sneered without looking at the dark witch.

Darcy started walking closer "Are you trying so hard to get us caught?"

"Get caught? So what? There's no way we will get caught. The more people notice, the more people I can take out, and the more people will fear me!"

Icy flexed her hand for another attack, only Darcy grabbed her by the wrist, "We're in no position to handle a large scale attack by anyone. Just listen to yourself for a second!"

Icy tore herself away, "Shut up! That's why I'm getting stronger by training! If you cared about it as much as I did, you'd be training too!"

"Cared about what?"

"About taking over all of creation!"

"Oh?" Darcy couldn't help herself, she couldn't risk Icy being this stupid, "Not just the Magical Dimension, but all of creation? Getting a little ahead of ex-Tritannus are we?"

Now Icy was glaring at her, she was furious. "Don't…you…EVER…BRING…HIM…UP! EVER!" Icy ran up to Darcy and grabbed her by the jacket, "DON'T YOU EVER BRING HIM UP!"

Darcy grabbed both of Icy's wrists "Then stop acting like the misguided loser so that I don't have to."

"YOU…YOU…FUCK YOU!"

"Go fuck yourself."

"OH YEAH?!" Icy looked like a maniac at this point "IF YOU'RE SO SMART WHY DON'T YOU COME UP WITH SOMETHING BETTER SO WE CAN TAKE OVER ALL OF CREATION?!"

"Can you stop yelling Icy?"

"IF YOU'RE SO SMART–"

"BECAUSE…because we're not at the top of our game right now, Icy. We need to recuperate." Darcy winced irritably.

"WE'VE BEEN DOING THAT FOR ALMOST TWO YEARS!"

"Well, technically it's only been one and a half." Stormy called from the hideout entrance.

"SHUT UP YOU! YOU–"

"The point is, boss," Darcy stressed on Icy as the boss, "We haven't fully mastered the extent of the Sirenix powers we got from Daphne and Politea. It would be best for us to avoid curses that could impair us permanently, no? And…and it would also be quite advantageous if we fell out of the radar of the law enforcement of the Magical Dimension…"

"YOU'RE JUST COMING UP WITH REASONS TO STOP ME FROM BEING RIGHT!" Icy screeched into Darcy's face.

"And am I wrong?" Darcy pressed.

"YOU! I...!" Icy scrunched her face in annoyance, she couldn't really refute that. But she was still angry.

"YOU KNOW I CAN'T STAND YOU RIGHT NOW! I HAVEN'T BEEN ABLE TO STAND YOU FOR AGES!" she was still screaming. Darcy knew she was just having a hissy fit so she didn't feel like a loser.

"Alright then, you've been…working hard. How about you take a nap and cool down?" Darcy smirked.

"STOP ACTING LIKE YOU CARE, YOU SHIT!"

"Yeah, whatever."

"WHY DON'T YOU JUST RUN OFF OR SOMETHING! I DON'T NEED YOU RIGHT NOW, I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOUR STUPID FACE."

"Fine." Darcy let go of Icy's wrists and Icy did likewise.

"FINE." Icy spat, storming off.

"Try not to over-exert yourself!" Darcy teased.

"MANIPULATIVE BITCH! I HATE YOU!" Icy flew away to the hideout tree. Stormy swiftly got out of the doorway and onto the branch as Icy stormed into the hideout and did the equivalent of a door slam on the magic entrance.

Darcy merely shook her head and walked away. Jacket and bag, she clearly had been waiting for this.

_"No."_ Stormy thought panicking. She might be a witch, but she definitely didn't want to be alone. Not like this.

"Darcy!" Stormy called flying after her. "Don't go!"

"And stay around her? I don't think so, I might be a witch but I don't appreciate being yelled at repeatedly." Darcy responded continuing to walk away.

"But, you can't leave!" Stormy pleaded.

"Are you serious Stormy?" Darcy turned and faced her, "After all of this time…maybe it's better if we all went our separate ways. We clearly don't work together anymore."

"What? N-no! We're…we're all _sisters_ Darcy, I don't think…I wouldn't know what to do with myself…I…"

Stormy looked as though she was about to cry. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder. If she didn't know any better, Darcy looked quite…gentle. But at this particular moment she didn't mind.

"First, don't get overly sentimental. We're witches remember? Geez, even you weren't this bad before."

"I know! I know!" Stormy blinked back the water in her eyes. "It's all because of that stupid Tritannus, he messed us up so bad."

"I know. But I think we need some space for a bit. Me and Icy at least. We've been banging heads far too much."

"But Darcy! You can't leave!"

"Of course I'm not going to leave…permanently." Darcy sighed, "I'll be back, and you know me. I'm just a dramatic liar."

"Yeah, just like when we were kids." Stormy said. Darcy looked at her sister oddly for a moment, then she fiddled with the bag she had brought.

"Here." Darcy reached into her bag and pulled out a couple of maps. "Remember how I was telling you about all of these safe houses I made?"

"Um, from last night?"

"These are all of the locations, they're easy enough to find for us. Keep on moving between them to stay beyond the authorities. Stay off the radar, no technology or magical communication if you can help it."

"But…why? I mean, we avoided law enforcement before no problem…why all of this preparation? Why do we need to hide so much now? And why do we cause less trouble now?" Stormy asked.

"Because…" Darcy started looking uncomfortable. "Because…something's up with Icy. She's more…angry."

"She's always been angry. Especially with you." Stormy looked confused.

"Yes, but…" Darcy tensed a little, running her fingers through her hair, then she stopped. "Look, I just need you to watch her and do a couple of things for me."

"But why?"

"Because she's your sister. And…and I need answers…and a break." Darcy consented.

Stormy wasn't sure if Darcy was being truthful, or at the least wasn't telling her everything. But she had brought them this far…she trusted her. Trust was such a strange thing with witches she had to admit though.

"Um…okay. What do I need to do."

"Make sure she takes these morning, midday and afternoon. Put them in a drink, while she's sleeping I don't care. Every three days or so." Darcy picked out a few bottles to show Stormy what she meant, and then put them back and handed the bag to her.

"Uhh…"

"It's to help her…relax, take the edge off."

"Oh! You mean like that stuff she used to take while at Cloud Tower? I always wondered why she was less irritable there." Stormy said.

"…Yeah. Just like that."

"Um, don't take too long to come back and find us." Stormy grimaced. "…Wait how will you find us?"

"I have my ways."

Stormy thought it might have been appropriate if she had said something in response, but it didn't matter. She watched her tall, brown-haired sister move further and further away until she couldn't see her anymore. Then she went back to the hideout.

Darcy would be back.

Even if she was a dramatic liar.


	5. The Right to be Muzzled

**~Chapter 5: The Right to be Muzzled~**

"Do I have to repeat myself?! I've told you everything!" the brown-haired woman yelled exasperatedly.

Darcy still wasn't sure how to interpret what she was seeing, as she spied through the window.

After she had left Stormy and Icy at the hideout…she was still debating inwardly if that was the right thing to do. She had stopped at her apartment …yes, she was the only one in her family with the sense to purchase property and have a bank account; under a misleading name of course. And dressed out of that ridiculous circus outfit she had to wear with her sisters, she decided to check up on _her_…

While she had her own personal worries, Darcy had also managed to grab gist of the strange rumours circulating for the last few months in Magix, if not the rest of the Magical Dimension. It was kind of puzzling that _she_ was the centre of attention…in that kind of way. And knowing her, it was probably something worth looking into.

Going to her palace, or any palace, was a dangerous bet. So she thought…well, going to see _them_ was already a headache enough as it was, but this, was surprising. Not unexpected, but she just couldn't believe what she was hearing.

It was so…suspicious.

Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to see _her_ personally. Their relationship was kind of on-and-off anyway. Darcy had changed her mind and decided to pursue solutions to her own problems. But it wouldn't hurt to hear something she wasn't supposed to.

Her gut feeling had given her clues as to how to listen in on the…interrogation. Advanced as the rest of the Magical Dimension may be, they had nothing on _Earth technology_. Humanity could be so ingenious sometimes, good thing they never really realised it.

"What makes you think you can barge into my home and insult me like this! You're worse than our government! And that's saying something!"

"Vanessa, I–" the thin bearded man began.

"That's Mrs Peters to you! I don't know who you are, so I am entitled to that much dignity!" she snapped angrily.

The thin bearded man rapped his fingers on the dining table, Darcy could tell he was noble by how he just sat placidly in the chair. That and the blonde man near him, dressed in what appeared to be servant's garb. It bothered her that she couldn't see the servant's face though, his back was to the window.

"Mrs Peters, I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation I am attempting to describe to you."

"What situation? Do I look like the person interested in your royal politics?" she sneered, rising up.

The servant moved forward though. "It would serve you well to remain seated for the rest of this meeting…madam." he said quite coolly.

"Why you…"

"I don't expect you to understand our royal affairs Mrs Peters." the thin bearded man said with a hand raised "We only ask that you provide us with the details."

"Oh please, I may be just human but I'm not stupid! You've been doing this to me for almost two hours! I'm honestly beginning to doubt you are from the court of Sparks at this point!"

The thin bearded man looked quite bemused "I was hoping to avoid this, but I do not lie Mrs Peters. I am not only a member of the court of Sparks but a governor, and a member of the High Security Council. I am Lord Tryst."

"You have a funny way of saying your name Lord Trust!" Vanessa responded sarcastically.

"It is _Tryst_. And even a human should understand what being part of a security council means. It is my duty to safeguard my realm through any available and honourable means."

"And what you're asking me is safeguarding your realm honourably!" she said incredulously.

"Answer the question, Mrs Peters." the servant commanded.

"Lucas…"

Vanessa was shaking her head, "If your king and queen commanded this, then it is little effort of them to ask me personally."

"I thought you said you had no interest in royal politics Mrs Peters." Lord Tryst cut in.

"But I…"

"Answer the question Mrs Peters, it's quite simple." the lord said, quite niftily "Were you and your husband officially registered as Crown Princess Bloom's foster parents?"

"What is this? What do the legal processes of my planet have to do with yours! They shouldn't amount to anything compared to a planet like Sparks! I raised your princess, though I didn't know she was yours! And now she's back safely from where she came from, not only that she saved you all! Isn't that enough!" she cried.

"Answer the question, Mrs Peters."

"And the way you keep on talking Lord Trust, it sounds like you want something more than what you're asking me. As if what you're asking me will lead to something else…something harmful to the wonderful girl I had the privilege of raising."

"Now, Mrs Peters…" Lord Tryst began.

"But that's what it is, isn't it! You're trying to fish me for something more than a silly adoption paper!"

"Mrs Peters…"

"How…how dare you." Vanessa made no effort to contain her rage. "You shouldn't even be compared to our government. You're like the Organisation! All lovely with vicious intent!"

"Mrs Peters…"

Vanessa smashed the vase on the floor. "If…if…if you are really from the court of Sparks, do something honourable by your people and leave my house. You have done enough injury!"

Lord Tryst, looking a little shocked from the display, opened his mouth to say something. But Vanessa was done, she banged her hands on the table loudly. "OUT! OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

Lucas moved towards her, but Lord Tryst stopped him. "This has gotten us nowhere. We're done here." as he was getting up, there was some knocking from outside.

Darcy looked up from the screen, she could clearly see a man in a fireman suit banging on the door. "Vanessa! Vanessa! It's me, Mike! What's happening in there? What's with all the shouting!"

"Human barbarians." Tryst spat.

At that point Vanessa grabbed the chair she was sitting on. She screamed after the two confused men out of the kitchen and to the front door. By that time Mike had fumbled his keys and swung the door wide to see his wife chasing some two official looking men out of their house. With a chair.

He was too slow in moving though, and the second one shoved him, and he fell on rosebush row in front of the house.

The first man swiftly opened a portal with a snap of his fingers. Neither of them turned to see what hellish creature they had just unleashed.

"AND DON'T COME BACK!" Vanessa bellowed.

"Ow…Vanessa what was that all about?" Mike winced. He looked; the portal and the two men were gone.

"DON'T TALK TO ME!" she snapped.

"Vanessa, honey." Mike got up from the bushes and stood in front of her. He placed his hands on the legs of the chair she was holding. "You're holding a chair." Vanessa was still breathing quite heavily as he took the chair from her. He moved a bit past her so he could place the chair inside. Then he held her by the hands, speaking softly. "What happened?"

Darcy turned off the devices she had been using but continued looking at the house. Vanessa had broken down and was weeping uncontrollably. Mike held her as best as he could.

The dark witch turned away, prepared to leave. But, she had gathered as much from the eavesdropped conversation…this had clearly happened more than once. And she didn't like Vanessa's comparison. She had to check.

She hopped down from the rooftop she had hidden herself on and walked towards the Peters' house. But the couple were already moving inside and Darcy wasn't in the mood for a break in or magical tricks. Drawing her hoodie up she raced towards the door, arriving just in time to wedge her foot in the closing door.

"I'm sorry but you should go away, please you…" Mike caught her figure in his eye. "You…"

_"Oh shit."_ was all that Darcy could think as Mike turned red. "Did you think I'd forget you? That I wouldn't recognize you? Some nerve you have coming right to our front door! Dressed like that!"

"Mike?" Vanessa sniffled.

"Vanessa stay inside." Mike growled as he rolled his sleeves up.

"Um, look, if you're thinking of the time me and my sisters iced Bloom I swear that was…"

"Vanessa give me the chair!"

"Mike! Stop that!" Vanessa now pushed her way to the front door and saw Darcy. "You!" she exclaimed, her eyes still red from crying.

"You don't how long I've been waiting to fix you up, you devil! I always thought you were a backstabber!" he snapped grabbing Darcy by her shirt.

"Oi! What I did…I swear, I wouldn't have hurt Bloom unnecessarily!"

"Unnecessarily?! She called you her friend for years, you snake! Would she ever do that to you?"

"That was almost eight years ago! Okay!" Darcy never thought she would be genuinely freaked out by Mike's anger "Okay, okay I'm sorry. I was trying to be tough and all. But I couldn't help but overhear about the Organisation…"

"You're not getting out of this, don't you even try!"

"Mike." Vanessa, put his hands on his shoulders "Please…" Vanessa looked at her, trying to be as composed as possible "You are alone…yes? Bloom told me about what happened, Mike still doesn't–"

"Vanessa, I'm telling you she's a witch! And you know what witches are, they're all full of–"

"I am alone! It's just me. Just tell me how many times those Sparks officials have been harassing you. You make it sound like they're connected to the Organisation." she hissed.

Mike's expression changed. "Vanessa, what's she…"

"Just…just come inside…before the whole neighbourhood hears this."

* * *

**_Several hours later._**

Mike kept watching Darcy like a hawk but that didn't matter. What Vanessa said was enough to concern her.

"The Organisation has been officially dissolved and dismantled for close to a decade here on Earth." Darcy said musing in the armchair, "Anyone outside of Earth shouldn't even hear a reference to them."

"I…I couldn't help it." Vanessa sniffed "I knew those men were probably from Sparks. But the way they were treating me, and always doing it when Mike wasn't around, it was like…"

"No one knows what really happens on Earth, Vanessa. At least what has happened since the guardian fairies were imprisoned by these so called Wizards of the Black Circle. And that was centuries ago. The rest of the Magical Dimension think that this planet is nothing more but an uncivilised backwater populated by primates."

"I gathered that much from Mr Lord Trust." she snorted.

"They shouldn't get any ideas of anything otherwise. It's just safer for everyone that way."

"You've got strange notions of safe." Mike said.

"I work with what I've got. Look, the Organisation itself isn't really the problem. It's the kind of solid information they still have tied to them. What information still remains, what it could lead to…" Darcy rubbed her face.

"Bloom didn't have anything to do with what those bastards did! Or anything else that they were part of!" Mike interjected.

"Did those men look like they cared about details like that to you?" Darcy retorted.

Vanessa shifted uncomfortably. "They looked like the kind of men that would rather doubt her integrity. And she's supposed to be the future leader of their planet!"

"But their objective was far too specific and that concerns me." Darcy continued. "How did they know to question you for Bloom's official foster registration?"

"Do we look like we have a clue?" Mike said "Maybe they all think if Bloom was considered an orphan here maybe…"

"Mike. No other place in the Magical Dimension has the same attitude towards…children in that way. I'm serious."

"She's supposed to be the future leader of their planet." Vanessa repeated. "And I have never known anything about leading anyone. From a country to an entire planet."

"Vanessa I know but…"

"You saw and heard how they treated me! Think about it, what if all those nobles are as devious and cunning as that one? Alright, I've met Stella and Aisha, princesses of whatever realms they came from. And they were lovely girls, but they came from the upper, upper crusts of their societies. And it never sounded like they had to rule properly!"

"Vanessa."

"You know what Bloom's seen and what she's done. What she had to do. She would take a task such as leading a planet far more seriously than any of her peers! If she knew what ruling Sparks really consisted of, how similar it was to what she saw on Earth…"

"Vanessa. Please, it's nothing like that. I'm not royal, but it's just not like that."

"It would kill her."

The room went silent. Darcy looked at Mike and then back to Vanessa. They looked at her as well with the same intensity.

How they all wished they were so wrong.

"Vanessa…" Darcy began slowly, "What has happened on Earth, to your planet...The royals in the other realms…they preside over heavily developed planets that have enjoyed eons of social, economic and political stability. They have different kinds of vices."

"But vices nonetheless."

"Look just listen to me, Bloom will be–"

"Bloom is not…blind. She just can't pretend about those kinds of things. I'm not high and mighty, I never saw her that way, and even I know that much about her." Vanessa sighed, plucking up another tissue. "Look I know you've had to do things in order to hide things. Bad things, and I don't really want to know about them at all…"

"Why would you…"

"But just this once do something worthwhile in your life Darcy! Her friends, those fairies, they could never help with something like this. They're too innocent for this kind of thing! And I don't know about this real family of hers anymore!"

"Vanessa…"

"You have to be there for her…please. She really has no one else."


	6. Teatime Conversations

**~Chapter 6: Teatime Conversations~**

Queen Samara had always been more at ease in sheltered situations. She supposed this much as she watched the blabbering lord in front of her, nestled under her pavilion. Of course, naturally she was at home in any circumstance. She had been _taught _that much.

_"What funny considerations I come up with when I'm so close to idiots." _she thought bemused as she sipped her tea.

She had hardly paid much attention to what the minor delegate from Sparks was saying. And normally she never even entertained private meetings with such lower tier nobles. She didn't even remember his name. Not that it mattered, and not that she had anything against them.

Nobles like him just had a tendency to be _ladder-climbers_. Thankfully, the highly developed social and political frameworks the realms enjoyed didn't allow for too much viciousness to occur as a result of this. Or too many. Sometimes she wished she could deal with such people on a regular basis to make her life more interesting.

Then again, it was an absolute dreary business. But occasionally, you found something of importance.

Like what the fool was saying now.

"Callisto is pressing forward more of its agenda to the realms. Even though Sparks has been absent from the political stage for nearly two decades, we have heard Callisto has been inactive for just as much as the same time."

"Well isn't that curious." Samara sounded interested because she was. "And I have heard that the push is being spearheaded by one of their own royals."

"Yes, Princess Varanda." the lord affirmed.

"You speak of her as though she is not in line for her throne."

"She is not, your majesty."

"Is that so? Well, there has only really been one event she has been associated with." Samara mused, more to herself. "A strange twist of fate that Crown Princess Bloom first entered Magix under her name. Even more so that Crown Princess Stella had come into possession of her letter of withdrawal."

"Does Crown Princess Bloom know of her connection to her elder sister, Princess Daphne?" the lord said, almost excitedly.

Samara's expression soured. "The connection you describe is not one of strong importance. And the Crown Princess of Sparks has more than enough to occupy her mind."

"Oh…" she enjoyed watching the lord struggle to come up with something witty to say. Poor devil.

"Samara!" a loud, bothered voice called, suddenly, racing towards her.

The queen nearly jumped at the sound of her shouted name. But she knew who it was. And why he was angry.

"Husband dear." she acknowledged without looking at him, resuming to sip her tea.

The burly man looked immensely aggravated, "Who is this?" he demanded.

Before the lord could speak, Samara explained "A minor delegate of Sparks."

"Oh, just a minor one? And…and Sparks! Samara did you hear the–"

"Rumours don't matter, dear husband."

As usual she was right, the minor delegate was only pressing so hard to meet her to have the opportunity to eavesdrop. On a situation such as this one. It was written all over his face.

And she was going to nip it in the bud.

"Samara!"

"But nothing." then Samara turned to her husband and looked hard. "Erandor, don't you have a war meeting to attend to?" she said quite flatly.

The king of Eraklyon looked at his wife as though he was trying to impose his will on her, but the queen was unrelenting. He thus stormed out of the pavilion somewhat dejectedly in a matter of seconds. Samara resumed sipping her tea in deliberate composure.

"My guards will show you out of the palace my lord, I bid you good day." she completely ignored the dumbfounded man as the soldiers ushered him out. As far as Samara was concerned, she had terminated the pathetic conversation.

She then dismissed her protectors for the day, and all was quite peaceful again. Peaceful and alone, with her old servant.

"What you're doing isn't helping your image, my queen. There have been vicious enough rumours for years about you being the true power behind Eraklyon." the servant spoke, once enough people were out of earshot.

"My position in regards to the throne is not exactly a secret, dear Sergei. Better to be infamous than be ignored, in some respects of course. As long as Erandor can speak to them on par with the rest of the realms, it hardly matters what they think of me. Besides the greater part of the nobility care little for actual politics, and what goes on behind the scenes of their regimes."

"Still, that meeting which was arranged between you and that dim-witted lord, your majesty."

"Sometimes I don't know why I have to expose myself to utter stupidity. But at least you soften the pain of it." Samara almost looked resigned as she cast glances with Sergei, who could not help but slip a smile.

"The nobles of Sparks are not known for their sharp wit, your majesty." the servant continued, pouring his queen another cup of tea.

"Neither are they known for their nosiness. They have been known to be very honourable, to an extreme fault." Samara stirred the tea a little. "Much is amiss."

"And Crown Princess Bloom has none of those famous traits." the servant added.

"On the surface perhaps." Samara replied "But look past that and you would find incredible similarity. Stubborn similarity."

"At least, they have not been so brash as to crudely approach you on the subject of their heir."

"Only because they are clueless on how to approach me tactfully on the subject." she sighed "You can hardly count that as a point against them."

Sergei looked knowingly. "Are you bored, my queen?"

"Good gracious, are you truly getting old, dear Sergei? I am _always_ bored, in many a royals company." she looked about the gentle scenery about her.

She had commissioned the construction of the pavilion many years ago when she became permanently settled in Eraklyon's capital. Not too long after what happened to her native city of Havram…

Samara continued to sip her tea. She and her then father's butler, Sergei, barely escaped that mess. Who would have thought investing in architecture would be a welcome distraction.

"I believe we are in safe private solitude at last dear Sergei." she said at last.

The old servant kept looking at the doorway. "Pardon me you majesty, but that may be too soon."

Samara looked and saw her son, Crown Prince Sky, walking towards them. Even from this distance, she could tell he had just returned to the capital. But at least he had bothered this time to change from his armour into something court appropriate.

"Good morrow, mother." Sky greeted, somewhat energetically.

"Hello dear. Would you like some tea?" Samara made herself look a little busy.

"Oh, not at all. I'm fine." the young man's eyes drifted to the servant. "Hello Sergei."

"Crown Prince Sky." Sergei replied quite graciously, with a slight bow.

"Surely you have more pressing matters to attend to, my son. While you are no longer officially Eraklyon's king for the time being, you remain the Crown Prince."

"Well…yes…but that was why I, uh, came to see you. Do you know where Bloom is? She never answers her private messages anymore. And I tried contacting the court of Sparks, but they keep on blocking or diverting my inquiries. Has something happened?" he asked quite quickly.

Sergei looked like he was about to say something, but Samara cut in. "Your fiancé is still in Eraklyon, dear."

"Oh! Really? So can I–"

"She will be leaving for Sparks tomorrow, however."

"But she'll still be here, right? So can I…"

"No." Samara negated him quite flatly. There was silence, but Sergei noted, compared to the last few meetings, Sky looked like he was ready to push his point across.

"I don't contact her while I'm on the frontier, like you told me to. I train hard, I limit my distractions and do my duties as much best I can! So I can be the best king I can possibly be. Isn't that enough? I don't see her for months at a time."

"Sky, for now, she needs to be left alone."

"But–"

"She has _work _to do."

"But so do I!"

"Not work like yours! And you are needed in other places."

"Mother, I…"

"You are needed on the Frozen Frontier, Sky. You need more experience in the military and what it means to rule. It will do you good."

"But–"

"Not another word on the subject. I am your mother and I am one of the few who know you better than most. You have to remember, you will not only be considered leader of Eraklyon someday Sky, but Sparks as well. You must be apt to take the burden of both nations. I will not part with my crown or let you do things, until I am satisfied that you can do thus. Do you understand?"

"Yes…mother."

"Good boy, the captains will see you off in a few days, after you have rested and given your reports." and Samara said no more.

Sky stood for a moment, hesitantly, before exiting the pavilion. He clearly looked disappointed as he left. Sergei studied for a moment, his expressionless ruler. And they were silent for a while.

"Is that wise, keeping one so far from the other?" Sergei broke the awkward silence at last.

"For the time being. And for as long as they both require it."

The servant remained unconvinced. "One sent away to the edge of a wasteland, the other kept in a tower. Indefinitely. You act as though they are bad influences on one another. Bloom particularly, since you keep her so close."

"Don't be ridiculous. Bloom…is an excellent influence on Sky. She has…elevated him in more ways than one."

"How so?" Sergei pressed. Samara appeared to make herself more comfortable in her chair.

"When I said Bloom would make a fine queen when our son first presented her to us; I was not lying. In fact, saying she would be _fine_ is an understatement." Samara looked at the vanishing figure of her departing child. "Given time, she can probably become one of the greatest rulers to ever sit the throne of Sparks. If not in the history of the Magic Dimension."

"Isn't that an incredibly obnoxious claim to make? You could be producing a totalitarian psychopath, Samara. Giving her ideas…" Sergei interjected, his bushy eyebrows raised.

"No, on that one I will disagree most vigorously." Samara looked at him. "Bloom, unlike the rest of her peers and the greater royalty, has had…certain experiences. Ones that many wouldn't even dream of experiencing in their own, privileged lifetimes. Experiences which have shaped her into something formidable."

"I don't know about that."

"Of course you don't. You've never been to Earth. I have, and trust me, no lifetime of training prepares you for a _living hell_. But rest assured, Bloom won't hear of my considerations or designs at all. Neither does she need to."

"Meaning…"

"It's because of those experiences that Bloom's developed a very good understanding of the nature of power. She knows that power doesn't necessarily come from a great magical flame, or from crowds of adoring fans. And it makes her wise. But she is still young, unfortunately. Young and emotionally stupid. Fortunately for her, that is something that can be remedied with a bit of _deprivation_." Samara smirked.

Sergei said nothing in response, but asked "How did you react. When Sky first told you of what Bloom told him."

"Oh, that." Samara gazed distractedly into the distance. "It wasn't that it…surprised me. Earth suffers a concentrated dose of sad stories. Thankfully I'm one of the few and only people who know that; for _obvious _reasons. But I…I just couldn't believe that a story like…hers could eventuate into a reality. In truth, at first, I found it harder to believe that she was related to the House of Sparks. An elevated family of pig-headed warriors."

"That opinion changed obviously."

"As I said dear Sergei, very honourable to an extreme fault. There are just some traits that cannot be erased. But Bloom will bring glory nonetheless."

"And…and you are trying to give Eraklyon a slice of that potential glory."

"Well, the opportunity did present itself. I would be a fool to miss it." Samara smiled. "Oh, and quite more than a slice, dear."

"Of course, their marriage." the servant fixed her another cup of tea "Sparks Domino and Eraklyon could become the unrivalled superpowers in the Magical Dimension, for generations to come."

Samara's smile broadened a little as she sipped. "Be careful where you mention the full name of the land of the Great Dragon. It's not because the people of Sparks don't use it anymore. Other realms loathe the notion of a power superior to theirs."

"You are trying quite hard to give Eraklyon the opportunity to declare itself Domino in title and right, aren't you?"

"Give an opportunity? Trying quite hard?" Samara looked away. "I will drag Eraklyon to glory, whether my son and husband will it or not. That is my legacy."

"Aren't you a dangerous woman." Sergei fixed his glasses.

"Oh, you really should stop making a habit of flattering me. But I believe as there is a saying on Earth dear. Don't count your chickens until they are hatched. And mark my words," Samara finished drinking her tea "Things are only going to get ever so dangerous. They always do."

"Perhaps things already have." he pulled out an envelope.

"What is this?" Samara asked, placing her teacup down.

"It's a forwarded transcript from one of your contacts on Earth. It concerns in particular, two of the hidden kingdoms there. Albion has declared a state of emergency."

"What! Give me that!" Samara snatched the piece of paper, opening it quite hurriedly. "This…this isn't an official statement."

"No it's a copy of the royal summons."

Samara was trying to read fast, but her Latin was incredibly rusty. For a language that could move heavenly bodies, it was poorly regarded in the rest of the Magical Dimension. "They've written it in old tongue of the Empire, it must be serious."

"Your majesty, it is a royal summons." Sergei repeated.

Samara couldn't read quick enough, she looked up. "Yes you told me that already! But a royal summons for…who?" and realisation dawned on her face.

Of course, in matters such as these, the Old King wouldn't want anyone else.


	7. The Secluded Challenges

**~Chapter 7: The Secluded Challenges~**

"Nebula, please. I refuse to have this conversation with you. Like this."

"Morgana, I am telling you. You should withdraw your daughter, Roxy from Alfea, _now_! She should be schooled _locally_."

Morgana rapped the arm of the chair in discomfort.

As tradition, she and Nebula sat on opposite ends of the long table, while the rest of the fairy court looked on from the rising stadium-like seats of Tir An Og's senate. The Chief Generals sat in the high thrones, surrounding the circumference of the façade at which the table sat in the middle. More important officials observed from the lowest rows of the spectator seats, though some preferred to observe from the higher echelons.

Normally such a trivial affair would be settled in the Throne Room. It wouldn't even be in the Throne Room, it would just be a conversation between two old friends and comrades, in a very informal setting. Morgana really couldn't believe that her entire kingdom was present for this. She just didn't want to.

They had called her to an actual _war council_ over the educational future of her child. It was as though they were preparing for an actual _outbreak _of war. _Inter-dimensional_ war.

It would be the first war since Earth's twelve hidden kingdoms made the pact, enacted the _Sakoku Absolute_. Since that policy had stood for the last several millennia...

What was she thinking?! She couldn't believe she was having political dilemmas and considering a war over Roxy!

"Morgana! Morgana! Are you even listening to me!" Nebula banged the war sceptre on the table.

The court murmured at this action, and Morgana could hear the fear in their whispers. The tension was almost unbearably ridiculous. She needed more time to collect her thoughts.

"I suppose next, Nebula, you'll be telling me that sending Roxy to the Hunter Legion would be a better alternative." Morgana suddenly said rather casually.

At that the court rose into an uproar, and her Queen Regent would have to call their people to order. She surprised herself a little at how much her comment stung, even the Chief Generals, who just started arguing amongst themselves.

Now she could think for just a little bit. Even with all the rancour going on about her.

Morgana knew what letting Roxy staying at Alfea meant to her people, her planet. Yet, surely the situation they had towards the rest of the universe wasn't that bad as to be irrevocable.

And she knew how much _bad blood_ Earth had with _every single_ powerful realm in the Magical Dimension. You didn't even need to ask the people of Yggdrasill why it was so…

Yggdrasill, the great hidden kingdom of witches. Hadn't that become such a sad sound.

But her people could not be so impossibly blind. They had spent centuries in the _dark_ because of the Wizards. But when fairy-kind reawakened, and stepped forth once again, out to their rough lived Earth…

They soon found that the simple folk not believing in them was the least of their problems.

What…what destruction and misery had occurred in their absence? Were the Wizards responsible for it? Or were they part of an even greater design? Morgana couldn't know for sure. There were too few answers, and those perpetrators were gone.

Not to mention her broken world was still so far from being healed.

They could need help. Was it so much to ask?

And it was why she had to step down, she had to find answers. For her people's sake, for her daughter's sake.

But that wasn't the only thing bothering her immensely…

"Morgana! This is not the time to play a fool! The future security of our world is at stake here!" Nebula fumed heavily.

"She's right, my lady." one general agreed.

"What are we going to do? We can't breach the _Sakoku_! What would the rest of the hidden city-states think of us?" another frightened fairy added.

Amidst the murmurs, there was nothing for it. She'd have to really speak her mind at this point. "Fairy-kind, my people. I understand your concerns, but we–"

"You can't be serious!" Nebula broke her train of thought.

"We have not had such a warm hand extended to us from beyond our borders for eons! And I'm talking about even before our little mishap with the Black Wizards! We would be fools to ignore the opportunity." Morgana said quickly.

"If you're referring to those _foreigners_ that your daughter became friends, you know what would have actually happened if we hadn't been imprisoned for centuries! We would have–"

"That…that wasn't what I meant. And you know that!" Morgana snapped agitatedly. "Roxy's stay at Alfea will not change the nature of our politics! She's not becoming a permanent resident of Magix! Even the rest of the kingdoms will have to take this into account, that she needs to be schooled!"

"Have you gone mad?! We're already having enough trouble as it is, trying to communicate with states like Albion and Shangri-La! And now you want to add a possible _intergalactic_ incident to the table?!"

"Nebula…"

"Do you really think that any of the other realms actually respect us out there? That they actually care? They've always consider Earth a second-rate planet! And have they ever done anything for any of us when we actually needed it? When they didn't need something from us? Roxy will not only become a symbol of our weakness, she will become an object of ridicule!"

Morgana was digging her fingers into her face as Nebula kept on talking. She really didn't know what to say without bringing…that other issue up.

"We have a potential civil war breaking out over this issue! Your daughter is going to be queen of our kingdom! You can't ignore the consequences of this action. The longer she stays there, we threaten the very balance of power and safety in our homeland!"

The court erupted into even more frightened murmurs and agreement.

From her view at the top rows of the senate, Aurora looked at the scene in quiet dismay. Morgana could not be this stupid. She couldn't just stand by such a shallow reason like her daughter's education idly, and watch the whole planet descend into chaos.

Even Sibylla had sent a representative. That was how grave the situation was becoming. She could not be this foolish. No, something else was going on in her former ruler's mind.

"Morgana." Nebula rose from her chair and laid the war sceptre down, spreading her hands on the table. "What you are doing is going against everything that we as Earthen fairy-kind stand for."

"Gods damn it Nebula!" Morgana let her hand fall.

"We are the guardians of Earth! We are its gatekeepers and protectors! We are the Earth's first and only official defence against any intrusion from the outside. That is the only reason the other hidden kingdoms give us that much respect."

"Nebula…"

"We cannot submit to selfish whims, we do not have that liberty as Earth's guardians! To keep on sending Roxy to Alfea is political suicide! It is as if we are surrendering to the powers that rule not only Magix but the entire Magical Dimension! That is how the other hidden kingdoms see it!"

"Then if it concerns you so much, Queen Regent," Morgana sneered "Why are you telling all of this to this poor uninfluential soul?"

Nebula's expression became much darker. She threw back the chair behind her and started walking to Morgana's end of the table.

"You want to enact a divide and conquer stratagem amongst your own kind? Is that what you want?!"

"No, what I want is to remove myself from this speculative rubbish!" and with that Morgana left the council.

Aurora watched Morgana stride away angrily amidst the worried chorus that echoed throughout the senate. The guards at the main entrance looked hesitantly at the exiting figure.

"Let her pass." Nebula growled, and they did so.

"Why, why is she acting that way about an issue as concerning as this? Mistress Aurora, what are we…?" the artic fairy who had spoken watched her leader disappear through the upper entrance of the senate.

The cold fairies who had also gathered up the top looked at one another. She was probably going to talk some sense into their former queen. Hopefully.

"Morgana, wait, before you go back to Gardenia, I–"

"Aurora, I'm not in the mood." the green gowned figure kept on moving. She was probably going to use the portal outside the castle.

The Fairy of the North flew quickly until she was walking beside her. "Morgana please, I'm not going to clash heads. Just hear me out."

"About what exactly."

"You were restraining yourself, in there, weren't you? Something else was on your mind, you've never been that distracted in any meeting before."

Morgana sighed heavily and slowed her pace. "You would know that much, you always do."

"I wish we could speak quite freely on the subject." Aurora continued.

"You don't need to ask so graciously anymore." she almost laughed.

"Alright then." they walked a little further until they were certain no one could hear them. "Morgana," Aurora's tone had changed considerably "Do you watch much news nowadays in Gardenia? Follow events that transpire in the hidden kingdoms, more specifically?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Morgana looked at her questioningly.

"Albion issued a state of emergency royal summons not too long ago." she responded without looking at her.

Morgana's face dropped a little, so did her tone. "So did Nebula…"

"I sealed the summons issued to the fairy court before they realised it. And you know as I do, anything issued by Albion is always concerning. I thought you should be one of the first to know about it. Nebula may be Queen Regent, but she's so thick headed when it comes to this kind of finer politics."

"Do you have a copy with you now?" Morgana asked.

Aurora appeared to ignore the question. "The summons itself is quite vague. It's set for a dispute between Albion and the Red Shogunate. But, who, they're summoning, a most curious case indeed."

"If they're only summoning one person, why do they need to issue it to all the hidden kingdoms? Unless…they're trying to make a point."

"The Old King has even used his high seal on it. And, for Tir An Og, he attached a considerable amount of lobbying material to the summons that was sent to us. He hasn't done that for any of the other hidden kingdoms. Trust me, I've checked." Aurora looked almost exasperated at the thought.

"He should know better than to do that kind of thing to us. We may be considered a hidden kingdom, but we are still very so much impartial to most political disputes." Morgana mused.

"At first I wasn't sure what to believe," Aurora continued. "Then I decided to do a little digging into the matter. I'm certain that I haven't even scratched the surface of most of this, but what I've found so far is…in truth, quite frightening, if I did not know much better." she produced a large envelope. "A copy of the summons is in here too."

"What is…contained in this, it looks quite dense." Morgana remarked taking it.

"Morgana. You should read all of it. It's trouble. A lot of trouble."

* * *

_**A few moments afterwards...**_

Morgana couldn't believe what material she was reading. As if arguing over Roxy's future was already a horrible affair.

"I told you it was bad." Aurora sighed, as she and Morgana sat in the shelter of the tree. She looked for a second at the fairy castle from the hill. The blue fairy had thought it would be better to get Morgana in a more peaceful setting for the revelations.

"No wonder why the Old King is lobbying Tir An Og like this." Morgana threw the paper she was reading away angrily. "He's trying to push forward his sovereign advantage. The sly dog."

"He's only pushing it on the slightest of technicalities. From the sounds of things, she is of considerable repute, but she has had only a very vague presence in the several notable places she was listed in. I'm not entirely sure why, unless...and I think you know what I mean."

"It doesn't feel slight. I had my suspicions about Bloom, but this is too much. Even if it is only the political side of things."

"What do you mean? You've been considering her, already? From what angle exactly?" Aurora pressed, she had not expected this.

"A princess of Sparks growing up on Earth? Isn't that suspicious enough already? And though I've heard her sister was a powerful nymph of some kind, how the hell did she breach the magical shields that have surrounded our planet since the _Sakoku Absolute_? They were made by…primeval gods, not even the Wizards should have been able to break them."

"We were imprisoned long before Sparks fell, maybe…maybe they found a way?" Aurora speculated.

"No I don't think so, something else happened. Something compromised them, and is continuing to compromise them. I don't know. I don't know." Morgana kept on rubbing her face. "And you were with me, several months ago, when we went–"

"Please don't remind me Morgana," Aurora looked away. "I was there. I know what you're talking about. I'll never forget all of that devastation."

"It seems terrible nightmares have been poisoning our planet. For so long in our absence." Morgana continued. "And compared to our centuries long imprisonment, the more I look around, the more I feel as though the greater part of them were only resolved…recently."

"Like should we say…eight to ten years ago maybe? And you think Bloom was somehow involved with stopping all of that…horror?"

"Someone like her with the Dragon's Flame, and of the royal family of Sparks, I highly doubt that she _wasn't_. The question is…why and how? How deeply was she embroiled in it? Even worse is what all of this implies for the present!" Morgana kept on looking away, Aurora knew what she was getting at.

"We can't reveal what we now know of Bloom, even to our people yet Morgana, they will panic. We…I don't think we've ever had this situation before in our _entire history_…"

The former queen looked at her former subject acidly. "Aurora, don't start going on overdramatised tangents, I have to keep that up with Nebula enough as it is."

"Morgana, you know we have never been this position, where another powerful realm could beyond doubt _legally _interfere in Earth's politics and way of life. If Bloom so desired, she could potentially bring not only Sparks, but Earth and perhaps any other planets she wanted under her heel. She'd have a small empire, and given what she could know about the _ways_ of our planet…"

"I'm sorry, but did you ever get the impression that Bloom was an imperial asshole?!"

"When I saw her fighting Nebula, no. But you never know with these other royals, they have always regarded Earth poorly. And she has been around such high-born windbags long enough to probably be influenced by their opinions. So small chance that she would use us all badly."

"She grew up here! Shouldn't that worry you more than making up a conqueror's agenda?" Morgana hissed.

"You may be finding it hard to believe Bloom to be a potential tyrant. But I find that easier to believe, than the _myth_ of her ending up on our soil as a baby with no clue of her royal ancestry." Aurora glared at her. "She could be just a political tool, a sleeper agent, sharpened to interfere in our affairs and gain more power for Sparks."

"I can't believe I'm listening to this, you're worse than Nebula! As if a planet torn asunder would undertake such a depraved scheme!"

"Then tell me of any proof that would prove my claims otherwise. As if Sparks would commit their sole heir to the wilderness." she responded.

"Did…did you just not pay attention to what I just said earlier!"

"If she is what you think she is, the easiest solution would be to make Bloom renounce her Sparks heritage." the blue-garbed fairy ignored her. "She could take a local title and–"

"Aurora, have you become so fucking stupid. This is Sparks we're talking about! Sparks Domino! And the bloody Crown Princess of the Dragon's Flame! You think I might be starting a war over Roxy, but what you're proposing is just fucking inter-dimensional anarchy!"

She really grimaced at her former queen's language. Clearly, Morgana had been spending too much time with regular folk. Then again, she had a tendency to swear when she was panicking…at least she recognized the gravity of the situation.

Perhaps she should not push it. Not too much.

"I am telling you the truth, Morgana." the blue fairy said quite coolly. "We need to go through every scenario. This is incredibly dangerous."

"Don't you think I know that? But knowledge of what has happened, and what is happening, is dangerously limited. And most of all, even with this much, we still don't really know anything about Bloom beyond these official records." she cradled her head. "The earliest of those records was made when she was…14, who knows what could have happened to her before that?"

Morgana honestly felt that with each problem she thought about, thousands more seemed to spring up. It was too much.

Aurora said nothing. Even with what she said, Morgana was also speaking the truth. They were still in the dark of things.

Then Morgana raised her head. "How do you suppose the Old King of Albion found out about Bloom's true heritage? He must know, otherwise he wouldn't be lobbying us like this." she said finally.

"Now isn't that something to really worry about." Aurora looked at her intently.

"Even if she is technically a foreigner and has lived beyond the confines of our planet, there is no way she would announce something like that…to any hidden Earthen court. Bloom would have seen the tiers of power here, she would understand the risks of being so brash with that kind of information. Hopefully, I don't know though."

"As Guardian Fairies, people can excuse us for peering into the affairs beyond our borders. Sometimes seeking threats actively demands it. But a hidden kingdom like Albion, which has nothing to really bridle its political agenda except it's ruler's lust for power…" Aurora breathed deeply. "What are we going to do Morgana?"

Morgana got up from the rock she was sitting on. Snapping her fingers, the evidence of the truth, more factually, parts of the truth, she had learned disappeared. "I know what I'm going to do now." and with that she started to walk to the castle.

"Why are you going back?" Aurora asked confused.

"To see Nebula."

"She should be one of the last people you tell this to, at this time! Why are you going back?"

"Don't be daft, Aurora. You know why."


	8. Stakeout Behaviour and Dim Promises

**~Chapter 8: Stakeout Behaviour and Dim Promises~**

The word _normal_ prickled Darcy's intellect. The things and manners of living considered ordinary always fascinated her.

She shadowed the walls of the palace, noting the changing of the guard. The replacement numbers were greater than that of the current forces out on patrol.

Continuing to bolster the defending forces around the most outer part of the palace perimeters. A most definite show of force.

The same thing was also happening at Eraklyon. Had been for the last few days, she'd been going between both places for some time. Hoping to find some kind of weakness wherein she could slip completely unnoticed. Meanwhile, on both planets, everybody just kept on living like it was supposed to happen.

As though the increased mobilization of military strength was a completely average phenomenon in existence.

Except it wasn't average, or normal. What was happening? She clearly was missing something. It was hair-tearing infuriating.

Well it would be if she were not so…tired.

It was that sense which had been eating away at her for the last year or two. Despite her current situation, the feelings that she had with her sisters had not dissipated, they had become worse. The ones that made her itchy to get away; the sense of futility, of restlessness.

She wasn't doing enough, and at the same time, she didn't feel like she could anything at all.

Like an incurable disease.

It drove her to sleep.

* * *

_Caught in the whirlpool of blackness. Caught in the sorrowing, accidental and deliberate misfortune._

_The black birds thrashed about. Breaking and being broken. Flying against their hopelessness. An inescapable, dizzying vacuum._

_Then it broke, like a cracked egg with its content seeping, through to the unaware lit world. So far from home._

_But still the rent and looped ending did not end. And so the black birds flew thus so recklessly._

_The black birds, gods of death and despair. Crying, screaming._

_Circling, causing havoc and mayhem as they invaded. Everyone panicking, running, in utter confusion._

_And in the blackened chaos, there was a small girl. A small girl who stood against the blackness._

_The greatest of the black birds fell in front of her…_

* * *

Darcy's eyes opened to the darkening world.

It was already well into the afternoon when she had begun stalking the perimeters of the palace of Sparks. And now the world was preparing to commit itself to a restful and temporary slumber.

If she didn't know any better as she observed the gentle scene, she would have described it as _cute_.

The perks of having a witch's sarcasm. Of course she hated cute.

But there was nothing else she could observe here, or do. It was boring now.

She moved away, from the hiding place she had made for herself near the palace walls, to a more inconspicuous place to vanish away, and she thought…

Almost instinctively, she looked up into the sky; a few birds were still flying high. But in the fading day rolling onto night, they looked quite black.

She was getting old.

* * *

**_Meanwhile in Gardenia…_**

"You shouldn't have been so nice to her." Mike said from behind his newspaper.

Vanessa paused washing the dishes. "Are we really going to talk about that, at this time in the morning? Honestly."

"I'm just saying, you could be giving her ideas about us."

"Like what? What's the worst that could happen to us? A few years ago, you never questioned this sort of thing at all." she snorted, opening the tap again.

"The world was in a completely different context a few years ago!" Mike raised his voice, as if to make a point.

His wife just shook her head. "Good grief."

"Well, ever since you demanded she display some sense of responsibility," he continued sarcastically "as if witches have any sense of responsibility, she keeps on checking in on us. And I'm just supposed to feel like it's normal that a killer crone is coming and going to and from my house!"

"Mike, the last time she 'checked in', was talking to us after the nightmare of those two Sparks men! Seeing her sneaking around Gardenia does not count!" she moaned, very vexed.

"Hmmm. I suppose you have a point there." Mike considered as he flipped a page.

"And why do you have to keep on buying newspapers? You're on your phone every other moment of your free time. You can check the news on that!" she then continued, quite happy to change the subject.

"Oh, I know! She's trying to gain our trust, and then stab us in the back when we least expect it! And all that running around Gardenia, she's probably putting a great hex on us all, so whatever dastardly plans she has don't backfire!" he said, quite excitedly ignoring her last statement.

Vanessa dropped the plate she was scrubbing in the sink, and looked at him. "Why are you becoming such a conspiracy theorist?" she complained. "When you met her all those years ago, before you knew she was a witch, you had absolutely nothing to say about her!"

"That was because I assumed she was like all those other people Bloom had to work with!" he retorted. "Not to mention Bloom just acted like she was a good workmate. And she never really said anything to us, so I wasn't interested to know. But then all of this fantasy nonsense happened, and being around those fairy friends Bloom made taught me one thing about magic…"

"And what was that?"

"You can judge a book by its cover! There is good, light, pretty magic. And then there's dark, evil, ugly magic. Fairies like to save things and help people. Then witches like to make living a hell, and have a tendency to kill. The end."

"You have got to be joking." Vanessa rubbed her face with the palm of her hand. "I don't know things Mike, but Bloom never talked about magic as if it was that simple. The intentions of the person using such powers also come into play, and I don't have to be a magician to know that."

"If you know that much, why are you so soft on her!"

"I am not soft on her! She hasn't done anything to us Mike, and–"

"Using us as bait to lure Bloom in and steal her magic wasn't doing anything to us?!" he yelled unbelieving. "The fact she did that, and that we don't know the first thing about her!"

"We didn't know anything about Bloom properly for years. We still don't, and look what happened!" she snapped back agitatedly.

Mike glared at her. "Don't you even compare. They're nothing alike!"

"Ugh! Honestly, don't make this a bigger, more awkward headache than it needs to be!"

Mike didn't drop his paper, but his stare became unrelenting.

"She beat Bloom in front of us, and then did nothing as she was iced to our wall. Just to sate her psycho sister's evil mastermind plans! Maybe even hers! And that is completely fine with you, is it?"

"No, I'm just saying that–"

"You saw and heard everything that happened eight years ago! She didn't even flinch as they ripped that magical stuff out of Bloom. Didn't you hear how she screamed like she was dying! And she was even laughing!"

"MIKE! J-j-just stop!" she shouted.

His expression stiffened as she yelled at him. The tone was incredibly desperate. He stopped dead in his tracks. The two people looked at each other for a few moments, and then resumed their previous activities in silence.

"I…" Mike sighed. "I'm sorry."

By that time Vanessa had already finished cleaning up. She was wiping her hands with a tea towel. "Oh Mike, we're getting on in years. I mean, I never thought we'd actually have such normal conversations like this."

The fireman finally put his paper down. "Vanessa, talking about killer witches and hexes is not normal."

"Don't be so insensitive Mike! You know exactly what I mean! Just don't."

No. He didn't want to see her like this again. He started getting up from his chair. "Vanessa." he began.

"Don't you remember when we couldn't even conceive what it meant to be normal?" her eyes began watering. "It was worlds away from the lives we had. And I never thought, never dreamed. You having an actual job, and that we'd settle down, a-an-and actually be parents."

"Shhh. Don't…don't cry over that honey." and he was by her side holding her. "It's already happened. It's already over."

"No it's not!" she began weeping openly. "I should have never let her go to Magix! I shouldn't have! She shouldn't have–"

"If she didn't, she wouldn't have saved all of those people. Look at all the good she's been able to do, beyond this place." Mike pointed out.

"And what's happening now? We don't hear anything from her! I just know she's in some kind of trouble. She always is. But this is a different kind of trouble…I-I don't know how to explain it."

He didn't know what to say. Again. It was all coming back to the way it was. And yet it wasn't. Mike breathed deeply. He and Vanessa were hardly anything extraordinary. Lucky maybe, but nothing past common.

Yet Bloom was so far beyond that.

Was she really their responsibility anymore? Was she ever theirs from the very beginning?

Maybe, it never should come to that.

"Did you ever think of how we were going to tell them? Of what actually happened." he said.

Vanessa sobered up a little. "Well, of course. At first, it seemed simple enough. They seemed simple enough, but they…I hoped that since being Bloom's actual parents, maybe they'd be better than the standard gentle royal couple. But…no I don't think they'll ever really know. They shouldn't know."

Mike looked at her, he could feel his wife was trying to go somewhere with what she was saying. "Vanessa?"

She nestled her head on his chest. "I-It was never as though I felt like I could direct the course of her life, or protect her. But as she and I grew older, I can't imagine my world without her anymore."

"Honey…"

"Mike, I…some days I just get this feeling."

"No, Vanessa."

"Sometimes I feel like she will never come back. I will never see her again." she said.

The silence was so loud. So dead and loud.

She stopped hugging him, and took him by the hands. His weathered hands, so worn at the wrist, she started tracing her fingers on the imprints. They had both come too far.

"Are you going to be okay?" he started saying.

She said nothing.

"Do you want me to take the day off? Help you with the shop maybe?" he asked.

"No." she sniffed turning away. "It's my day off remember? I'll just be at home. I'll be fine. I just need some quiet."

"Oh, okay." her way of saying she just wanted to be alone.

Mike got his things; he was probably already running late for work. But that didn't seem to matter at all. He didn't look around or try to speak_. "Just get out of the house. Just go."_ he thought to himself.

He hurried outside. And took a few steps. No. She needed to know he would be back. He turned and saw his wife in the doorway.

"Bye."

"Bye."

* * *

_**Later that day…**_

She'd busied herself all day with doing little odd jobs around the house, reading a few out-dated magazines, even watching some mediocre television programme.

Vanessa decided it was time to take a walk. Just for the sake of it.

By this time it was 3 in the afternoon, as she made her meandering way to Gardenia's central park.

It was still school time; so she didn't expect to see any children running around. She found the odd couple here and there though. Mostly adolescents. Just going about their business, without any knowledge of the forces at play over their world and others. Nor was their desire needed.

Not even a decade ago the carefree youths were scarce. Even more so that these people actually had peace-ridden futures just waiting to happen. Just like her. Sometimes she couldn't help but marvel at the things that could change in such a span of time.

And yet the days were so long.

She almost smiled a little at the thought. Sometimes it was good to not be out of place.

But she wished that…

That's when she saw her sitting cross-legged by the pond. Strands of her brown hair flying in the air, looking absolutely inconspicuous, shed of that super-villain outfit. Engrossed with an object she appeared to be cleaning.

Vanessa sat on a bench near the pond, her eyes kept warily on the busied figure. She could be casting a hex for all she knew. Good grief, why should she care? It was not as though she could do anything about it. She sighed exasperatedly, magical things bothered her too much. It was never that she really trusted anyone that could as much wield a gun or a weapon with any kind. Or any stranger. She had never asked for reasons or logic with all the happenings she had lived though. Except the magical ones.

Beggars couldn't be choosers, she always used to tell herself. But maybe they could with magic…

The only reason she had come to think that way was because, all of the immensely magical creatures she had met since Stella were so, paper-cut. She almost felt she could be excused for being judgemental. What you saw was what you got. It was a ridiculously sound formula when it came to fairies, just as much as witches. There was too little evidence to the contrary. The only witches she had come into contact with were ones that hurt Bloom, and toyed too happily with those close to her. Such as this one. She hadn't really seen _her_ do anything else.

Was this one really supposed to be an exception to such a rule? Magic appeared to have numerous rules, far removed from basic reality. And magic never wrong about itself. It seemed.

That was when Vanessa thought back to Bloom's first couple of years at Alfea. She had mentioned something about a witch school in Magix. As always she was excited about it, curious even. Yet, when the days wore on, the more she talked of their kind, the more…disappointed she was. Soon she mentioned less in detail the magic places beyond the Earth. Then nothing.

She looked at the average scene about her once more, and the so called witch who kept herself within it. And that was when she let the small doubt playing in her mind, be realised. That was when Vanessa decided the pre-conceptions she had made and was given, of the magical places beyond the earthy confines she lived in, was nothing but a painted distraction.

It just had to be.

She walked up near the edge of the pond. She knew the woman heard her approaching.

"Things must be interesting for you to come out of your shell, into the open air." she remarked with no qualms and no exchanged glances.

"And what would draw you out as well? Small metal things?" she returned.

"Nothing. It's just a small trinket…" Darcy's voice faltered. Vanessa watched the woman's expression turn distant. It was almost as though the object incited some kind of forlorn memory.

Did witches have feelings like that? Could they actually feel sad, after making other people's lives so miserable?

No. Enough of acting as if real rules didn't exist. She could afford to be blunt.

"You should know I've never trusted you. Mike's only really vocal about it but…"

"I wouldn't want you to. You never should."

She ignored that. "We're only talking to you like this because you know things. And been places where we couldn't have been. But if you ever hurt Bloom, like really hurt her…"

Darcy turned and looked at her, with strange unassuming composure.

"I'm not powerful enough to make you either suffer or pay for it, but you should know," Vanessa stared right down her eyes. "You will go on unforgiven, and I hope you carry the weight of it for the rest of your life."

The ordinary things and daily routines that always fascinated her.


	9. A Night of Playing Anxious

**~Chapter 9: A Night of Playing Anxious ~**

"_How could this have happened?!"_ Samara was incensed.

She continued to stride up and down the room. She had been this close to making an absolute fool of herself, if she hadn't already.

Under the assumption that her potential daughter-in-law had returned to her homeland, and her son to the Frozen Frontier, Samara began occupying herself with business prospects abroad. As well as tying up _some_hypothetical loose ends.

Obviously that wasn't enough to prevent the close shave she was experiencing.

She presided over one of the only realms that Sparks could invite to its own annual Fire Commemorations without inciting immense political curiosity. For the moment. She wisely convinced Erandor to go to Solaria for their festivities, while she went to Sparks. Normally, she never even bothered to do such a thing, but there were some advantages to be had.

Spreading both heads of state to two different and equally powerful nations, invited other realms to dismiss any notion of a subversive agenda. If they even thought it existed. Not to mention between them, Sparks, Solaria and Eraklyon had enjoyed constant exchanges over the last couple of centuries.

So everything was bound to be well.

Until she arrived in Sparks, and discovered that Bloom had not returned as planned. Right from her mollified parents. The girl had still been absent for as long as she had been abroad. That was not supposed to happen.

Alright she would admit, she had been pushing the limits of Bloom's…capabilities for some time now. But within reason. She knew that rumours were bound to spring up because of her unofficial stays with her potential in-laws. But Samara wanted them to. That was why she had been keeping Bloom right under her thumb in Eraklyon. To control the babble of little-minded idiots. She had her reasons.

But for the Crown Princess of Sparks to not even be present for her kingdom's own Fire Commemorations...

It was a three-day event that marked the beginning of sacred adulation of the Time of the First Flame. A devout season which would go for at least three months. And it was a tradition held since time immemorial, when spiritual leaders across the realms believed the Great Dragon with its mighty fumes, breathed creation and formed the Magical Dimension from nothingness.

The Day of Fire Commemorations, in particular, was when people made promises by the Draco. It was the only time the oath-binding title of the Great Dragon was allowed to be invoked; for good luck, fair fortune and unbreakable vows. Coincidentally, it was also when chosen maidens used to be offered to the Keepers of the Underwater Temple in Roccaluce, to take up the revered office of Guardian Nymphs of the Great Dragon.

Though Samara cared little for such frivolity. Even with all the magical logic thrown at her, she had always thought that a big dragon creating everything was little more than a silly bedtime story. And a dragon that apparently created all things in three months, talk about inefficient for a godly beast.

But she cared for the social and political consequences attached to the celebrations, as well as certain significances. Bloom was heir of House Orus. With that said, her realm was always considered first of the realms of fire, and the rebirth of Sparks Domino a couple of years ago had raised her kingdom's significance even further with the Time of the First Flame.

And the people of Sparks, aside from being upper class brutes, were forever superstitious.

After that untimely revelation, Samara politely and unsuspiciously removed herself from the festivities on the dawn of the second day, returning swiftly to Eraklyon, to prepare for potential damage control.

She started thinking the worst. Now she'd given the Magical Dimension a window of opportunity to question Eraklyon's motives, her motives. Who knows what nosy people could find with her operation potentially blown into the open? And what those nosy people would do with that kind of information. But she refused to believe that she had played her hand too soon.

She hadn't even started drawing her cards yet. Against opponents who weren't even playing to her rules.

There was a rap on the door.

"Enter." Samara made no attempt to reattain royal composure.

Sergei opened the door, two guards came in. Samara stared at them for a moment; she had expected maids or servants to be the ones bearing the news of the occasion. Regular guards, soldiers of Eraklyon as a rule, were not supposed to have opinions on these matters. Looking out into the night though her barrier of glass, she said nothing to acknowledge them.

"Explain to the queen what has occurred." Sergei prompted.

"At once. Your majesty." one said, but as his ruler did not respond, he continued. "We are of the few guards who you have approved of staying in contact with the Crown Princess of Sparks."

Samara couldn't take this long-windedness, even if it was slightly assuring. "Get to the point, soldier."

"We were accompanying her as per schedule, to the ship that would take her back to Sparks."

"So the crown princess was keeping to the arrangements, to return to Sparks two weeks ago from today?"

"That is correct your majesty."

"Then why didn't she?!" she demanded angrily.

The two guards looked at one another. "She, uh…"

"What?! Speak up!"

"She fainted, collapsed your majesty. We couldn't revive her for at least half an hour." the other said quite flatly.

Samara really looked at them both, incredulously. "F-fainted?" they nodded vigorously. Samara resumed pacing the room. There was no reason she should have fainted, what a flimsy term. Bloom didn't need to use her powers with the work she was doing. She couldn't buy it.

And why did that guard emphasise how long it took them to bring the girl back to apparent consciousness? Samara became still, looking at them.

"Where is Crown Princess Bloom now?"

"Uhm, in one of the allocated safe-houses, your majesty…You, uh, said in any emergency to keep her, uh, in less auspicious places. So, uh, as to not arouse suspicion." one of the guards said, a little uncertainly.

"Oh? And if you went to that much trouble, why was I not informed of this situation, as soon as it occurred?!"

She watched the guards become utterly expressionless. They always fell back on their training when confronted with things they could not answer immediately. She could count on that.

"Pardon your majesty, but we're just guards. We will not question orders from a higher authority…we…know better." one spoke, quite contrite.

Of course, how quaint, Samara was almost amused. Almost. "Get out." she snapped. The two soldiers needed no further prompting. With a saluting shuffle of boots they disappeared from sight.

Her old servant closed the door behind them. As he did so, she finally collected herself. She proceeded to sit down in the drawing room, and assemble her scattered business papers.

"I hope you didn't have anything to do with this debacle, dear Sergei." her tone dripped with distaste.

His lack of response proved her suspicions. Eraklyon guards never actually thought for themselves about problems, they were bred to follow protocol. But she couldn't afford to be sour.

"Two weeks resting in a safe house after merely fainting?" she inquired.

"My queen is fortunate that this old servant has had some experience as a court physician." he returned without a paused thought.

Samara continued to file her papers. This was a job for her secretary, but the information contained therein was too sensitive to be handled by anyone else. "Physician or not, your former professions are not going to help remedy this potential problem. But I wonder…"

* * *

**_Elsewhere…_**

"My lord prince?"

Sky still felt numb as the lieutenant shook him back to consciousness. His face, even within the vehicle, was faintly frosted over. He futilely shrugged; his shoulders burdened with the thick fur-lining of his cape remained bristled with ice. The soldier before him, covered from head to toe, stared at him through his thick-lined artic goggles.

"We'll be at Alpha Base in a matter of hours, just thought I'd let you know sir."

Sky said nothing as the lad moved off. And it wasn't because he was tired.

Once he had thought the Omega Dimension was hellishly cold, but it was nothing compared to the incredible sub-zero temperatures of the Frozen Frontier. Ever since he had been sent here, he believed the names of the places should have been switched around. But the thought passed, settling his back a bit more against the steel hull, he looked outside of the small opening in front of him.

The world was dark with dashing blinding snow.

And he welcomed it, for it had grown on him. Unlike the cavernous prison realm, the Frozen Frontier felt like an actual world. The vast plains of ice and rock for generations fascinated and frightened many a learned scholar. Every notion of natural and magical law became redundant as the physical and the supernatural elements seemed to clash there in infinite majesty.

Sky still remembered what he felt as he saw the true nature of the wastes for with his own eyes. He had come to the waste's very edge on a scouting mission, and there was nothing but emptiness and the distant stars, above and below. He marvelled at how he was even able to breathe with no atmosphere to provide oxygen, in what should have been the vacuum of space. Nonetheless, the Frozen Frontier was still a waste.

Only Eraklyon and Zenith had bothered to make a series of bases at various parts of the precipice, close to their respective home-worlds. Scientific reasons apparently. For everyone else, the Magical Dimension was big enough to fight over, there was no reason to venture and conquer what nothingness lay beyond.

According to some, the Frozen Frontier was the lost Realm of Frost, which had been destroyed by the Angel of Doom. Yet a place so great and wide as to encompass the entire Magical Dimension like an asteroid belt, Sky was not so sure anymore. Especially since the tale that told of the realm's demise had been discredited for years as a comedian's blabber.

But the wilderness that he had been forced to reside in for nearly a year was falling far from his mind.

His mother's latest rejection of his intentions still bothered him. Even if it was now past, it continued to plague his mind. It wasn't because he had lost to her yet again. The more he thought about it, the more he must have sounded utterly pathetic. Like a child.

Only being such an inhospitable ice desert, far from everything and everyone he was used to, was making him slowly realise this. And also because he really was alone. His mother had insisted that he had to come to his own, his protector, Brandon, would only hinder him. Without his close friend, he learned in such a place only your own strength was going to get you through to the next day. You couldn't rely on anyone else. That fact exhausted him on some days; that he had to live and experience that kind of desperation. It was unfair.

And yet, sometimes that was easier to live with, than thinking about…her. Even if he really did want to be with her again.

Why he had asked to see her? In truth, he still didn't feel ready to see his Bloom. He obviously was still stuck in his habits, where he felt like he could just rush into things, and everything would sort themselves out.

He kept on forgetting that he should probably stop believing that it was how his life would always play out, because it wasn't.

Maybe his mother already knew that. Maybe it was better he didn't always get what he wanted. Maybe he'd finally learn.

Then again, he couldn't believe he was thinking that way. He never had to. Until now.

From that day he broke her heart. May that shameful moment never fade.

He didn't care that he was not himself when Baltor's mark ended up on him. And when he recovered, he always knew that small doubt would pervade her mind. He expected it, because he too began to doubt himself.

She first made little mention of it, as though she didn't know how to explain what she felt. He could understand that much. But, it was as though the horrible event had made her remember something just as bad. That was when he noticed the growing guiltiness that glinted in the far reaches of her eyes. Every time they spoke after that incident.

Initially, he thought that guilt was because of her ex-boyfriend, Andy. Wasn't that a stupid conclusion. Even stupider now.

And then he forgot her.

But his amnesia had made him see her in a different light than he was used to; and that he carried quietly even after his memory was restored. Sometimes in the few spare moments he had, he would still see that stranger.

That distant stranger.

That was the woman she felt like he could only know, a few days after Tritannus had been exiled to the depths of Oblivion. She met him under the cover of night. She begged for forgiveness, understood if he wanted to leave her and save himself. But he couldn't understand why. Then she spoke…

And what she started to say.

He'd never heard that kind of…

He almost ran away from her that first night. No. He did run away from her. She didn't even follow him or try to reason with him. She just watched him run away, like she expected it, like she wanted it.

What did she even mean?

In that small conversation, the beautiful girl he met eight years ago dissipated. It was a _construct_ projected by such an unknowable, frightening being. Something dark, something sick.

What was that…thing for the first 16 years of her life?

Could he still be forgiven for sometimes thinking of her that way? Would she still understand?

_"Would you still…"_

What if he was the one to run away?

* * *

**_In the chambers of the Queen of Eraklyon._**

It had been a while since she had committed herself to bed so late. She was fine spending it alone though. Samara undid her dressing robe, the laced nightgown underneath shimmered in the artificial light of her bedroom.

"Are you certain you should sleep on this?"

Samara turned to Sergei who remained in the doorway. He still held the briefcase in which were enclosed her business documents. And he continued to observe with bothered interest.

She didn't like it when he looked at her that way; it brought her back to the days when she used to cause all kinds of mischief in her father's house. But he was forever out doing his duty, and her mother was sickly, only the butler was there to keep her in line.

In line with silent observation.

He never had to contradict her openly with anything. She just knew and she never liked it.

"Of course I am." Samara threw her outer garb on a lounging chair.

"You gave her quite a rousing speech in the middle of the night. And sent her back quite abruptly to her homeland." he pointed out.

Samara began moving away from the chair. "Good night, dear Sergei."

He in return paused, but not for long. "My queen." and he closed the door.

Samara huffed a little as she began making herself comfortable.

It was occasions like this she wished she could put everyone in their respective places.

But after dealing with Sergei for so many years, perhaps it was best if she didn't know the details. She didn't need to fill her head with legitimate reasons to feel…responsible for that girl's health and safety.

At least however, the fears that she had at the beginning of the evening were naught but awful speculations. Samara could count on herself to just play things right off anyone's radar. The only variable was how Bloom would take the onus of her little fluster, but Samara was sure whatever her reaction, it wouldn't be anything radical. There were too many things that would restrict that without digging a deeper hole for herself.

Bloom was an adult now. Samara was not going to feel guilty about treating her like one. Besides, if she was really upset, the little thing could afford to find fixations to sate her misery. And she could do that in private.

The rest was simply business.

She could close her eyes on that.


	10. Offering a Burned Hand

**~Chapter 10: Offering a Burned Hand ~**

Bloom stepped through dim-lit civilisation. Her sleep ridden eyes continued to clock their way above the shadowing metropolis to the fair stronghold on the peak.

Yet she was far from falling flat on her face.

After wrestling with exhaustion for who knows how long, she had been bundled off on a sickening fast-tracked trip to be unceremoniously dumped on a highway. A berated rebuke happened somewhere in the middle.

In any case, she had been disposed like unwanted evidence left to fend for itself. Quite reminiscent.

Using her fairy magic to fly back to the palace was easy enough, but Bloom was in no hurry. Luckily she had been paying some attention to some prattle about local customs. She refused to explain herself. That could wait until the next morning. Until the entire three-month festival was over would be even better.

She almost regretted that decision.

Not even an hour had passed since she decided to walk, she ran into a group of…pilgrims. An unsuspecting lot, too happy to notice who she really was, though her layered hooded garb did most of the hiding. She even mistook them for locals, but apparently they had travelled from Cosmosia. One of the many minor fire-orientated realms that worshipped her home-world. They claimed they were undertaking the traditional route to the main city in honour of The Time of the First Flame. It was even more special since it would be the third spring since Sparks' rebirth.

Because of that and despite her saying little, they insisted that she should make an offering at one of the wall shrines with them once they got to the capitol. Before she missed out on the Fire Commemorations period entirely; she still let that much slip.

Bloom pulled her cloak more tightly, caring to stay out of the obvious light of the exotic street-lanterns.

Taking her time returning to the palace was out of the question. She couldn't leave them, not unless she wanted to make a scene. It was close to evening by the time they had reached the outmost gatehouse. And while it was a simple matter to lose the tourists in the city, before she did…

Life just had to have a way of affirming itself to her. It was absolutely annoying.

She consented to the pilgrims' suggestions and made an incensed prayer at a wall shrine. She drew out the thin ribbon that would indicate the favour that the Great Dragon would bestow on her.

Of course she got the obscure result.

Still, she didn't want to have yet another thorn in her mind. She approached a caretaker, and inquired. The frail lady looked at her oddly, before settling herself in a rickety chair next to the shrine.

The answer she got ensured the impossibility of falling back into slumber. It always did. At least for the next few hours.

But even then, Bloom remained uncertain if that answer was what kept her from falling into the lethargic stupor she had been experiencing for some time now. Or maybe it was being out in the open air that let her exhale the slothfulness.

Funny how quickly a mood could change with location. Sadly funny. It always was.

That was why when she was younger she never stopped…

Banging, thumping, a faint clamour of bodies resisting and hounding.

Sounds of a scuttling confrontation flew through Bloom's ears. She quickly measured her surroundings. It was a modest part of the citadel-city, you wouldn't expect to hear that kind of struggle in such a place. But it was also very public…

The kind of situation that left an awkward, rotten taste in her mouth. Better ignored, there were worse things to worry about.

She was quite content to go her own way, but one mere step and a ragtag -person landed a few metres in front of her, dragging along a man in purple combat gear.

"Get off me!" the scamp yelped.

Two more clad in similar garb ran from the alleyway the pursued had fallen from. They obviously weren't in the regalia of the Palace Guard, she could assume they were part of the City Watch.

As they struggled to pull the person upright, she remembered how it always bothered her how trusting people were of their armed forces. It was too…perfect.

She observed quietly.

"Let me go! I haven't done anything!"

"Really? Only a dumb convict would think of harassing people so pathetically. Everyone knows that loitering counts as inconveniencing anyone in public spaces. Which further constitutes as a low degree of assault." the detaining guard huffed crankily.

"H-how am I…there's no one else here!"

Another guard clapped his hand on his counterpart's shoulder quickly. "Excuse him, he's just eager to jump to conclusions. We were just–"

"Stop it, we have to keep the streets clear for the festival, remember? Don't make this complicated. I mean look at the…thing." the other spat.

"We were just going to ask," the guard continued to the annoyance of the others "What were you doing, sitting out there? People aren't sitting around at this hour, and there's cheap accommodation about with the festival going on. We're not looking for trouble."

"I-It's none of your b-business!" the person stammered. The voice torn between that of a broken boy and a frightened girl.

"Oh?" a bulkier guard started so circle "You do realise that we're supposed to keep this city safe day and night? So it is our business. We've already gotten reports of troublemakers roaming amuck to disrupt the celebrations. Old Faith activists."

"B-but." the person's mouth quivered, uncertain of whether to retort or keep their mouth shut.

"There's no need to do this." the other guard exclaimed. "There's always rumours like that!"

"In Solaria they've just had to deal with a bunch of escaped convicts who were doing such a thing."

"Those weren't convicts; they were a marginalised group over there. People wouldn't be too stupid to try a stunt like that here, not yet anyway. Old Faith worshippers don't care about events like this." the guard holding the person pointed out.

"See?" the other guard gestured.

The bulky guard stepped quickly and ripped something from the person quite violently.

"Then what does this one want in the land of the Great Dragon?" he growled dangling a trinket, the detainee looked even more frightened.

"That's not a measure of anything!" the other guard said.

"Shut up, I don't have time for your stupid political correctness. And this brat isn't going to get away with it. That's the reason why she's out here, couldn't keep up with her little gang. She's clearly looking for trouble."

"Alright, what are you doing out here?" the other guard began to question. "Are there people around you know? Who are responsible for you?"

The scamp looked like she was going into a fit. "I-I…"

The more the sad scene dragged on, the more Bloom felt like she had seen that person somewhere before. The scamp did look gritty and unwashed, but the voice was becoming more familiar to her, and that lavender hair…

No…it couldn't be. She began moving, discarding her outmost layer.

"There isn't anything you can say is there? You're just looking to make trouble."

"No! I-It's just…You can't do this to me!" she yelled desperately.

"Hey! Calm down! OW!" the guard yowled as the urchin grabbed his hand and bit his fingers. The other guards were on her instantly.

"See? What did I tell you?" the bulky guard fingered his restraints.

"I…I still don't know about this." the guard who had come to pin her down muttered, the other was hissing with bleeding fingers.

"We can let the galactic legal system work it out. She looks like the kind of reprobate anyway. And she's far from local."

"No! I haven't done anything!" she screamed as they shoved her upright.

"Sure. Take that up with the authorities. At least you won't be going to the Omega Dimension." the guard with the shackles stated dryly.

"By the beast! The stupid mutt's probably given me rabies! She's bitten right to my bone!" he moaned angrily.

The bulky guard simply shook his head, as he heard some footsteps. "Oh. Move along citizen. This isn't…"

The guards with their hands free drew arms at the slender figure robed in regal navy blue, now undeniably recognizable.

"C-Crown Princess Bloom?" they stated unbelieving, weapons dropped, clanging.

The detainee looked even more horrified, but even this close her identity was uncertain.

The bulky guard's surprise was quickly replaced with wariness. "Crown Princess? Why are you so…far from the palace at this hour? You shouldn't be out walking about."

Bloom was silent and hating life. "Why can't I walk about? My family technically owns this city."

The soldiers appeared taken aback at the arrogance of the answer. The bulky one wasn't though.

"Even so your highness, your presence here leads one to question–"

"Let her go." she cut in irritably.

"…What?"

"Let her go."

The guards looked at one another incredulously. "This is an affair that doesn't need your concerns your highness."

"I'm making it my concern. Do it. Now."

"With all due respect, princesses and future leaders don't interfere with the duties of their nation's defenders." the bulky guard continued suspiciously. The other guards were beginning to regard her oddly as well.

"Commanding isn't the same as interfering with duty. And I'm commanding you to let her go and leave."

"You can't just…"

Before the guard could say anything else, Bloom simply looked at him. She locked gazes with the bulky soldier who clearly held her in little esteem.

But unlike the guard she stared with strange mastery. Unbeknownst to him, it was a stare that only past experience taught her. And as always, it was enough.

The soldier's flippant looks evaporated. All of theirs. If any doubt as to whom she was or her power lingered, it was gone.

"Don't make me repeat myself."

She could sense the surprised respect that had quickly risen in all of them, and fear.

Nothing new.

"A-at once, your highness." the guards bowed gracelessly. They began withdrawing themselves, then…

"A moment…guard." Bloom moved soundlessly and removed the Old Faith trinket from his grasp.

"Now, run along. You can even take the rest of the morning off." she continued, lowly, dangerously, uncaringly.

They eyed her, but now at least their intent was bent on obedience and nothing more. The guards gathered their scattered things and hurried off, but in such a way that they expected the scamp to do the same, and thanklessly.

Instead the girl fell down on her knees. "C-Crown Princess Bloom!"

"Don't." was the mere reply.

Confused, the mangled person looked up at her unexpected saviour, and saw only a tired apathy in her eyes.

"I-I'm sorry." she spluttered.

The princess continued to say nothing. Instead she stepped a bit closer, studying her with a bitter indifference.

It was almost frightening.

"I know you from somewhere, don't I?" she stated at last.

"W-W…" the girl's eyes widened from behind her mopped fringe. "No! No!"

"No?" the princess countered with royal haughtiness, eyebrows raised.

The ragged wreck backed away on all fours. "No! Please! I'm nobody!" she pleaded.

"I don't think so. The last time we saw one another was Magix, yes?" the princess pursued.

"NO!" she was shrieking now. "STOP IT!"

"Why should I?" the princess leered.

"N-no. Please, just no!" she kept on scampering away. "D-don't please! You wouldn't want to know me anymore."

The princess moved quickly and this time blocked her forcibly. "No. Look at me."

_"Look at me."_

Bloom heard Samara's voice passing through her mind, repeating the words she said.

She looked down at the girl, who had stopped crawling and curled up into a kneeling position, teetering.

Completely ashamed of herself. In absolute shame.

And she became aware once more of the black ribbon tangled in her fingers. It jogged her to exhale her listlessness. There were enough miserable people, she didn't need to be the cause of another.

Bending a bit lower, Bloom placed a hand on her shoulder reassuringly, her tone softened.

"It's alright. I promise." then adding. "I think you remember don't you? You told me once, at times like these, one should have friends."

Choking with sobs, the figure looked up at the princess. Her face was a wet tangle of matted hair and grime.

"Oh…Shilly."


	11. Making Ends Meet

**~Chapter 11: Making Ends Meet~**

Shilly continued to quiver visibly, still at a shocked unease. The scamp and the princess sat beside one another at a secluded part of the cliff-face on the outskirts of the palace. Ineptly reserved, waiting for dawn to come.

Bloom wasn't sure how to begin asking without coming across as, insensitive. She knew from an intellectual point of view, she'd spent far too long in relative isolation. In comparison to the magical lifestyle she had…adopted for some time.

Now that she thought about it, it _was_ a surprise how quickly she'd slunk back. In the thick of mundane brain-deadening tasks, unimaginative dreams and twisted hopes sprouted once again. Becoming used once more to the world being naught but a blurred reflection.

Like a fading memory. If only such a thing could exist in her mind.

But in the present, distance barely remained for so long. "W-why? Why d-did you help me?"

While she voiced the obvious question, the witch weakly fidgeted the silken blue cocoon wrapped about her. The princess graced her with the garment as she was spirited from the winding streets of the capitol. Though, it would not conceal the scars of needy embarrassment Shilly had endured, and quite unsurprisingly so.

_"A small measure of dignity."_ Bloom played with the thought far too pleasurably.

The only reason why she was strenuously helping Shilly was because she needed a diversion above all else. A muse. Something to distract herself with that felt better than licking her own injuries.

What culpable pleasures she had come to know.

"I don't know. A spur of the moment I guess." she responded glancing away. A little too casually perhaps.

"Oh." was the only thing Shilly could muster.

It had only been an hour since she had run into the former student-princess of Alfea, and Shilly was already having to cope with even more mixed feelings. Alright, she wasn't as close as the fairy friends of her club were, how could she be, but Bloom was still different to how she remembered her. It puzzled her.

Bloom broke her train of thought. "So, what brings so far out to Sparks so early in the morning?"

Shilly felt her insides primed for ejection out of her mouth, even though she kind of knew the question was bound to surface sooner or later. She sat quietly, thinking hard.

"It…it wasn't as though I had a choice…I had to leave Cloud Tower." she said carefully, at long last.

"Huh, gathered as much. You may be witches and all, but a privileged school has standards too."

Was she really trying hard to emphasise what a loser she was? She was very uncertain as to whether she should be hurt or offended. Or maybe the crown princess was always like this whenever she didn't see her, and admittedly she hadn't seen Bloom properly for nearly three years.

The difference between them was like comparing Sparks to the Omega Dimension. She should still be polite.

"Uh, yeah. I-I don't really want to talk about it."

"Since when has keeping things to yourself ever done you any good?" Bloom exhaled.

"…W-what are you trying to get at?"

"You wouldn't have ended up on the street just because they kicked you out. Did they curse you for doing something?"

"N-No! I-I wasn't cast out like that…it was other things. F-family and money was part of it…" Shilly began crying.

Bloom just stared, she'd just spoken a few sentences and the girl was already breaking down. She was so doll-like, maybe Shilly was on her way to becoming a fairy like that Mirta.

"Sorry. Um, don't cry." she said awkwardly, hardly reassuring. Fortunately, the girl was recovering herself rather quickly.

"No. Y-you're the blessed Crown Princess after all." Shilly sniffed. "And you're right about me, I guess. But I doubt you've ever had to worry about losing a roof over your head. Even if people say you were raised by some simple human couple and all…"

"Isn't it curious that I haven't?" Bloom said wryly, and it was true, surprisingly. But then again, she'd never thought of her past life that way.

Shilly seemed like she could almost laugh. "You know for a fairy, you can sound so irreverent."

"And I should say that you're too domicile for a witch, but that's such an overused suggestion. Everyone just loves making things inwardly opposite based on popular perceptions."

Bloom kept on studying her reactions. Hmm, perhaps she should start feeling guilty. Everything she was saying was chipping away at this girl's long eroded sense of self. It really showed. But it was weird. Bloom couldn't help but wonder if this was the way Queen Samara saw her.

"Family and money you said?" she continued, taking control of the conversation.

"Y-yes."

"Huh, clearly you are in lack of both right now."

"Uhm…"

"So let me guess, money wasted and loved ones all gone? Dead I suppose."

Shilly gawked at her with strange horror. How could this princess speak of the misfortune of others so carelessly? That scared her more than how Bloom just managed to pin-point her current situation in a matter of a few sentences.

"Well then. Is there really anything else you can't do?"

"N-no. I…" Shilly did her best to collect her thoughts and swallowed hard. "I…I can't even use my magic anymore…it's just…gone."

In the lightening dark the two figures merely regarded one another. Until at last, one said exasperatedly.

"Why is it when people around here lose their magic they act as though their lives have no meaning?"

Shilly was wrong. She didn't know this strange woman at all. "W-why are you t-talking to me like this!?" her tone descending lividly "Didn't the Trix steal your magic once?!"

"Hey, uh, calm down." Bloom raised her hands curiously startled. "My magic just didn't just wither and die like yours. I was just–"

"You know what? Forget it." she ignored her. "You might be the Crown Princess and the Magical Dimension's great saviour, but that doesn't give you the right to treat me like garbage! Just because you're luckier than everyone else!" Shilly flung off the robe as hard as she could at Bloom and attempted to walk off quickly. There was nowhere she could go, but she could get away from this…person.

Instantly she was grabbed by the wrist.

"Shilly, come on."

The tone made her cringe. It just sounded like the drunk men fooling around the nightclubs of Magix she was forced to contend with on her first few nights.

She had never forgotten it, to be all alone with absolutely nothing, but she tried her best to get by. And eventually, when she had saved up what little she could get, it felt like she had torn off limbs to finally get to Sparks. Only to have any hope shredded and flung back right at her. For so long she had just wanted to lay down and end it all, but didn't know how and was too scared to try.

So after dealing with such a meagre existence, dodging authority and the accountability she had been forced to carry, she was being harassed by this fairy princess, who far from the pink college, had long since settled into her role as being an upper-class bitch. She probably only saw her as a sad play-thing.

Shilly threw a slapping fist right into Bloom's face. She had fallen too far to care anymore.

Bloom staggered backwards, recoiling a little from the unexpected ferocity. She rubbed her jaw. She was so not used to any of this, being like this.

"Jeez Shilly, what–" she was silenced by another scrawny hit.

"Don't even try! You…you…" the scamp struggled to find an appropriate word but then finally "You…monster! You don't have any idea what it's like t-to be like this!"

Bloom's eyes narrowed as if a part of her had at last instinctively snapped. Shilly didn't realise it until it was too late as she threw another blow. Bloom caught the fist effortlessly in the palm of her hand. Her grip was full of expertise and power, but most of all, it felt incredibly...

Un-magical.

A ferocious head-butt sent Shilly to the ground like a swung lash. But she managed to drag Bloom with her, and they were on one another, struggling viciously, without meaning. Like crazed beasts, each with their own madness, becoming angrier with the continuing flurry of loose punches and scratching.

Naturally, they were not evenly matched. Even with how desperately she fought, Shilly lacked the combative skills Bloom clearly displayed without magic. Above all of that, she was weak from months of hungry despondency. But it was not going to stop her.

"Do your worst you royal scum!" Shilly spat. "I've got nothing left!"

"You should never be so quick to invite trouble. You will never learn, hopefully never." the princess retorted unemotionally, pulling her up and then kicking her back to the ground. And continued kicking her. Each strike becoming precise with the sound of fracturing bone, Shilly was beyond conquered in a matter of moments.

It was not that she was strong enough to fight back, or that it was her right, but because she could say something. It made her mad. That there were people like this, who did things more than they ever could for themselves. Because whenever she looked at them she only saw…

…herself staring back. And she hated herself.

But as she cogitated, there were sounds outside of her, echoing louder. Sounds of a voice that could speak but could not. Who had forgotten how to utter mere dialogue out of violence. But it still cried, so full of suffering.

It was speechless prattle, but unmistakeably, it was pleading for mercy. It was pleading for the pain it felt to stop. The pain the voice carried and was being given.

The princess' eyes became aware of a red liquid being spilt on the ground, drunk by the soil. But it wasn't hers.

What was she…

What _was_ she?

Must she forever keep on forgetting?

The mist of nervy wrath fizzled from Bloom' eyes. Shilly was curled up on her side coughing and convulsing, covering her head in feeble defence. Streams of blood seeped from her nose and mouth.

"Shilly?" the princess began, desperately and worriedly. Genuinely worried with the lack of response.

With that, Bloom stretched her hand out, reaching, but the girl began moaning, as if to warn her away. She was terrified, and she had every right to be.

Bloom dropped to her knees. She tried to gently raise Shilly up, to begin healing the pain she had inflicted. But the girl struggled as hard as a ruined body could at mere touch. Bloom was forced to clamp down to stop Shilly from imposing further injuries on herself.

"Shilly? Please…I'm sorry, just…stop." trying to hush her soothingly wasn't working either. It was never going to work.

She had done this to herself, she owed the person that much. At last she spoke.

"You're…right, I am a monster… I don't want to know how you feel, Shilly. But I do know…far better than you think I would." Bloom whispered, full of remorse. "I know." she said to the panicking girl in her locked embrace.

She continued to repeat the phrase, each time trying to be far kinder than she had previously been. Until at last, Shilly stopped resisting and surrendered to sobs. She buried all that remained of herself into the princess. She had nothing else.

Bloom held her as close as she could, and let Shilly weep into her.

"I won't do that again. I won't ever let myself hurt you again. I promise."

Shilly huffed spastically and weakly in resignation, as if she was trying to say something. Bloom sat her up slightly and helped her breathe until she gave a gurgled cough.

"W-what's h-happening…to…me?" she asked, her voice almost inaudible. "Is…is this…what death feels like? B-but…I…I don't want to…die…like this."

Bloom was incredibly torn at the statement. There was the blood drying and caking, plastering itself on the fragments dirtying the girl's face. A breathing life in her arms, threatening to ebb away.

How could she merely think of herself?

"No. I won't let it."

Shilly gawped upwards, confusion and disbelief still strongly fixed in her fainting eyes. Bloom was saying something but she couldn't really hear it, she could no longer resist the nausea and she started blacking out.

"…of you…No!...Shilly!"


	12. A Run through a Stirring Gauntlet

**~Chapter 12: A Run through a Stirring Gauntlet~**

Daphne's eyes opened to the opaque emergence of dawn. Her smooth bed-sheets shifted agreeably.

What a strange sentiment. She wasn't sure how to describe what she felt. The sensation that had moved her to awakening was neither violent or desperate, nor gentle or pleasurable. It was just a feeling.

A feeling.

_"It must be her."_ she thought.

She was home.

* * *

Bloom clutched the limp bag-of-bones in her arms strongly, her feet barely making a sound as she pattered through the grand corridors. She navigated the passageways as though she had walked through them every day of her life. She might as well have.

She was in haste of course, but Bloom had bothered to wrap Shilly carefully in her cloak, lest any stray drops of blood betrayed what she had done. The regal blue garment was bound to get dirty but that hardly mattered.

She should have known better than to beat a half-starved witch. Well, she wasn't really a witch anymore. But that didn't change anything. She couldn't picture how to get Shilly to anybody without people figuring out what had actually occurred. She was sure that she was missing other consequences and things for certain.

The girl's fading breaths brought her back to focus. Healing magic would do little. Bloom had read somewhere that fairy-on-witch magic was only effective if both parties cooperated. Shilly was nearing a possibly permanent comatose state, not to mention she was magic-less now, and normal.

Normal. Good grief. Why was that the one of the only words that was often used opposite to magic? On Earth anyway.

She had to stop thinking that way someday.

At least she could count on herself to keep some medicinal oddities stashed in her chambers up in the tower, away from the servants…

"Hey. Did you hear something?"

Bloom started slowing down. In her panic she had forgotten that the palace was a living one. People would be up and about in about two hours to prepare things for the day.

She couldn't leave Shilly in her chambers. She couldn't hide there either. Even when she was gone there would be servants who would clean the place on a regular basis, and usually only in the morning. A lot of servants, because she was the Crown Princess, and the number one tourist attraction.

_"Shit."_ Bloom thought crossly. And that wasn't even thinking about the guards that were on duty already.

The guards that were probably coming down into the corridor she was in.

* * *

"Lucas, was it?" Arlen's brows furrowed.

The servant stood quite cavalierly in the drawing room of the Crown Princess' chambers.

"Lord Commander." he bowed so slightly, but the old man dismissed the gesture.

"I did not see your name on the role of servants assigned to care for Crown Princess Bloom."

The servant remained answerless, which concerned Arlen significantly. Meanwhile there was an approaching sound of footsteps, and with the clicking of a door, a soldier clad in lieutenant colours emerged from the bedroom, followed by a regular palace guard. The lieutenant merely nodded at his commander.

"The Crown Princess may be absent from the palace, but you should not wander in these rooms no matter how vacant and unused they are. Not to mention that any chambers allocated to the Royal Family are off bounds unless you're on an allocated role." he chided.

"And when do you think that the Crown Princess will use her chambers more frequently, Lord Commander?" the servant asked.

It was Arlen's turn to be unresponsive, he didn't like this at all.

"I better not catch you doing this sort of thing again, you're a servant. Know your place. The palace isn't a museum. Get out."

Lucas looked like he was almost shrugging before he bowed again and walked gingerly out of the room. The lieutenant made sure the door was closed and secure as he left. He reached for the light switch.

"Don't. People shouldn't know anyone is in here. Make sure that servant leaves the tower." Arlen said, without turning around. As the regular palace guard left, he began pacing the room.

"You're the Lord Commander assigned to the Princessguard, sir. You don't have to explain yourself."

"Even so. Other eyes will be watching." the commander tapped the tea-table with his foot. "Was there anything in the other rooms?"

"Unfortunately sir, there is."

Arlen looked at the lieutenant, his face fixed in a grimace. "And what have you done?"

"I've disabled them all as best as I can, and removed them." the soldier stated.

"Bring them all in here." Arlen ordered, and the soldier went away to do so. He reached down under the tea-table and pulled out the small piece of technology secreted underneath it. He studied it carefully.

"This is too sophisticated for a listening device." he muttered, he heard his lieutenant come back in the room, carrying something. "Do a sweep of this area."

"Yes sir." the soldier dropped the bag on the floor and pulled out a scanner. "I'll set it to locate and send a disable signal from here, sir. I've managed to decode their identification code."

"Hmm yes alright." Arlen clasped his hands behind him, the device still in his grasp. "Have you managed to trace them back to a receiver? Or identified if they can also take visual data?"

The lieutenant continued to operate the scanner. "Unfortunately not sir. But they can only take in sound as far as I can tell. They're also homemade."

Arlen shifted his head a little. "These things are homemade?"

"Yes sir, our databases were updated last night. But even I didn't need to refer to them to know they weren't off a production line. They've clearly been made with an intrinsic understanding of magic and natural engineering though."

Arlen sighed deeply.

"But some good news sir. The servant has probably been only working on installing these tonight. They haven't been here long, we were good to catch him here and now sir."

"Just lucky I suppose." he turned and walked closer to the lieutenant.

"How did you know sir?"

"One of our men saw him running in here before he dozed off. And we only knew that because when it was time to change shifts, I pressed him for anything he saw out of the ordinary as I was returning to my own quarters. It's not like anyone gave us a tip."

"He's probably only following orders, sir." the lieutenant said.

"Orders or not," Arlen crumpled the listening device in his hand "The Crown Princess is entitled to her privacy. And besides, our rulers are not depraved enough to spy in on their own child. Displaying such a lack of trust completely undermines what House Orus stands for."

"Perhaps then," the lieutenant speculated thoughtfully "Perhaps the orders to monitor the Crown Princess in such a backhanded fashion came from an influential noble, someone clearly concerned about the subject?"

"Perhaps indeed. Methinks someone who would try and disguise their interest in Crown Princess Bloom within a façade of goodwill." Arlen continued quite dryly.

"So, who do you think would have…suggested such a thing, sir?"

"Who else?"

* * *

"Can you believe your brother?" the guard laughed.

"He's probably high or something, the City Watch always are when its festival time." his partner smirked, putting away his receiver.

"Or maybe his mind is being affected by the rabies he got from that beastly urchin."

"Next he'll be saying that he saw the Great Dragon turn into a naked prostitute."

_"Sorry." _Bloom thought to herself amidst the laughter. She clutched Shilly hard as they hid behind a pillar, muffling her mouth in case a pained murmur escaped. Bloom could feel her shift uncomfortably, which was somewhat assuring.

It was also helpful how quickly some people dismissed things. Bloom moved a little to watch the guards disappear down the hallway. She didn't budge until their footsteps and the dancing light of their lanterns faded. Now the coast was clear. And she had been given enough time to think about her options.

She got up quickly, sliding Shilly back into her arms to be carried, as gently as she could. Then she ran in the opposite direction with her burden, navigating the various hallways and corridors with ease once again. Finally she found the door she was looking for. Ramming her back into it she began running down the stairs, muttering a fiery word to light the way as the door swung back behind her.

By all accounts, what she had thought of was beastly. But it was the only chance that she had to keep the girl alive discreetly.

She kept on descending, through the ornate bastion's bowels and to the deep below.

Where things could hide.

* * *

Daphne walked briskly, drawing on her coat at the same time. She could see the bluish light of premature dawn dance through the windows, making all sorts of promises for the coming day.

She was certain that her sister had returned home at last.

She had spent the last few weeks of her life worrying quietly, uncertain of whether to be offended or grateful with the blatant lack of attention and usefulness. Uncertain of whether to listen to the idle gossip that could tell her where her lost sibling may be. Determined to keep even more woes from her busied parents, though it plagued her with doubt and concern.

The coming season of the Time of the First Flame was the only thing she had to look forward to, the only thing she could consider good without consequence. And it was as though the universe thought so too. Suddenly the Magical Dimension remembered the Elder Princess Daphne and her status as the last breathing nymph of the Order of the Great Dragon.

It was only fitting she should become the chief priestess to give thanks for the survival and restoration of Sparks Domino, her people, the Order, her great family and of course herself. All had made it past the dark days of the Great War with the Ancestral Witches thanks to the guidance of the Great Dragon.

The Order was never going to be extinct of course. Several high-paladins survived the war and managed to re-establish the Fortress of Light, and the Great Dragon would always choose more nymphs to serve its will when necessary. Though, the Underwater Temple of Roccaluce was naught but a ruin.

So many took Daphne's return as a sign that the core of the Dragon's Covenant had transferred to Sparks from Magix. It was an absolute blessing.

In grand fashion she was prepared to renew her vows as a nymph. The solemn rite was to take place at the great altar of Draco deep in the crypts of her ancestor Orus. The crypts were surrounded with the tombs of her predecessors, and she felt the weight of such a long and prestigious line as she progressed towards the altar during the ceremony. She looked at her people, so full of hope and pride. Her mother, held in her father's arms, struggled to blink back tears, surrounded by notable members of the court and the royal guard.

Only little Bloom was missing from the scene. She knew that it would raise even more unwanted and hurtful alarm. Thus after all of her required offerings, she silently prayed for her sister to return and without suffering social slight.

The Great Dragon had answered her in a matter of days, she was certain of it. Daphne hoped that perhaps all would be well in the world at last, and that all that remained was time to repair things as they needed to be.

Since she probably didn't have a clue as to where her sister was precisely at that moment, she could at least offer a prayer of gratitude and for clarity in the meantime.

Taking a lantern provided at the doorway, she descended to the crypts of Orus with complete peace of mind.

* * *

Bloom closed the door behind her quietly and slowly, still huffing a little after ascending the flights of stairs. The world she came into was illuminated with tinges of gold, the sun clearly well into rising.

That had taken a lot longer than Bloom thought it would, but at least it was secure. She rubbed her face as she walked back to her chambers, fixing herself along the way so she didn't look too bedraggled. The unrest of the early morning had taken its toll, and that wasn't even thinking about what had happened for the last night and day.

She could be forgiven for committing herself to bed. She mulled over somewhat amusedly that if she were discovered in her chambers there was nothing the servants could do to rouse her. Not after all of this.

She was left to herself at least, for as short as that time may be.

Bloom slipped her hands down into her pockets and felt once again the black ribbon. She stopped, and frowned a little. In a way she felt all of the morning's madness had been the result of that one little shrine offering.

She fingered the thing again, exhaling resignedly. She was never the kind of person to not finish something. One way or the other.

At this time people would definitely see her, she could already see servants and guards frequenting down the halls and past her, still perhaps to sleepy to figure out who she was. Or maybe she moved too fast past them.

But there was nothing too pressing to hide. For now.

"This is so going to be the end of me." she muttered taking instead a route which led to a particular garden courtyard.

The old lady at the gatehouse wall shrine nagged her about a grand wall shrine within the confines of the palace. If she wished to complete the offering, she should present what remained of her physical prayer there. She wasn't sure what the thing the weird woman described looked like, but after seeing the smaller one, she could guess.

The monument was sheltered in a grove of willow-like trees. In front of it was a framework of wood hung with ribbons all the shades of fire. It looked relatively new compared to the shrine, it was safe to assume it was erected for the Time of the First Flame.

But the lady had said her ribbon should be tied above the small brazier keeping vigil below the image of the Great Dragon.

Bloom approached the shrine as reverently as she could, but as she moved to tie the little piece she heard a most refined cough, clearly tailored to capture her attention.

Heaving a little, she turned around. Her eyes first fell to the servants gawking at her from the open corridor, then it came to the official looking man right in front of her. A noble.

"Crown Princess Bloom." the bearded lord said quite crisply without a bow.


	13. Socialite, Limelight, Perform Right

**~Chapter 13: Socialite, Limelight, Perform Right~**

"Eugh…" Bloom garbled, accidentally indicating what she thought and felt like simultaneously.

She never had taken the time to painstakingly note each and every one of the various aristocrats of her family's court. There was no need to. Yet she could definitely tell that this noble was of the kind that would hate her. Not openly of course, but belittle and criticise in such a polite way, and mostly behind her back.

"Your highness?" he asked smugly.

"…Hi?" what a way to break the awkwardness, but better than nothing. Hopefully?

The lord remained unamused. He squinted, studying her, categorising her, making mental notes to report in. And there was a rumble of feet and murmurs approaching. Bloom gritted her teeth a little and thought of herself very much alive in the distant future, past the backlash of whatever was going to happen next.

She hated how social interactions made her incredibly squeamish. It was incredibly pathetic.

"Lord Tryst? Whatever is the matter?"

As the lord turned, Bloom clamped her eyes shut and then opened them. There was a crowd now; it seemed like a mix of common folk and nobility and…the king and queen.

"Bloom?" her birth-father asked, pushing Tryst aside, who was clearly trying to explain something.

His daughter wasn't paying attention; in fact to her it felt like all of their voices were muting. Subconsciously, it was like she was moving at a pace minutes slower than the rest of the world. She was pretty sure she must have some dumb look right on her face, but that didn't matter, what was happening?

Such a crowd wouldn't be gathered for any random reason, even her. And judging by how the sun shone it was at least seven in the morning; but things would still be quite sleepy at this time…

The old woman at the gatehouse wall-shrine had also prated about the dawn services which would be conducted during the Fire Commemorations. A rare occasion for commoners to share a moment with the king and queen and the eight governors of Sparks Domino, princesses were not required though. The old woman was grumbling because apparently you could pay your way to get the opportunity…

So this Tryst was a governor of–

"See! I told you she was the Crown Princess!"

The shrill Cosmosian voice rattled her back to the normal time. The voice in that same group of pilgrims that tormented her yesterday had pushed themselves into the front and were pointing at her. They were yammering all sorts of things; Bloom couldn't keep track of it all.

"…it's that ring, of the Heir-Regent on her finger!"

Bloom systematically looked down at her hand; two rings were on her finger. The blue crystal circlet wrapt with twin dragons and the engagement ring of Sky. She'd forgotten those.

"What?" Tryst growled, also trying to make sense of the situation, but everyone else was ignoring them both.

"Oh my goodness you're the Crown Princess?" one of the tourists gasped in awe.

"W-we did see her on the pilgrim's way to the capitol!" another said excitedly.

"Didn't she make an offering at the outer gatehouse wall shrine?" The superstitious lot burst into an absolute chorus, more servants had gathered and joined the crowd.

"She took that route? But if she started it by foot, it would at least take her a week or so to get to the palace…oh." the princess could catch the governors whispering amongst themselves.

Tryst turned to look at Bloom again, confused and agitatedly. Bloom couldn't help but gawk at the way he eyeballed her, she managed an awkward smile.

"Eugh." she had to heave though. This was seriously too good to be true; she had just narrowly missed a social nightmare. It was like someone had been praying for her.

Wait…why did she…

Bloom felt a hand grasp her arm; her birth-mother was by her side, her visage the picture of refined concern. "Dear, are what these pilgrims saying true?"

She'd forgotten her royal parents in the prattle. Her birth-father's hands thudded onto her shoulders; it was amazing she didn't flinch at all.

"Forgive our esteemed daughter's muteness; she is perhaps exhausted after her weeks long journey. Although I believe the court, her parents included, would have appreciated at least a bit of forewarning." the gathering chuckled a little.

"Oh! You must be so proud that she's taking the time to go to such lengths to honour her duties, your majesties!" a roundish lady shed a tear.

Bloom looked at the Lord Tryst again, who had turned away quite properly from everyone, poised to barf. She was too actually, thankfully once again too tired to do anything extreme, as her parents fussed over her with well-oiled enthusiasm.

Looking around quite blankly, her eyes drifted past the herd of people…and to a golden and majestic figure hiding in the shade of the open corridor.

Daphne exchanged glances, absolute relief painted on her face. After her prayers, she had wandered about the palace for nearly an hour, when she saw a couple of servants rushing somewhere, with the words of something returning on their lips and she just knew.

She knew it was quite unrefined, but Daphne was quite to make a scene with her just latching onto her little sister unrelentingly and without a sense of social propriety.

That was until she felt a hand on her shoulder.

Daphne recoiled almost angrily at the disturbance of her quiet happiness, but that dissipated when she came face to face with the refined noble.

"Lady Virginia!" Daphne spluttered.

"Forgive me, your highness." she curtsied respectfully. "I did not mean to disturb you, but you are needed to prepare for your office as Chief Priestess of the Time of the First Flame."

"O-oh…" Daphne's face fell slightly; she looked back longingly at her family near the shrine.

Virginia also stared in the same direction, a little surprise dawning on her face. "I'm sure I can explain to Master Ulrich that you may be held by a minor delay, he would–"

"No! I-I mean…" Daphne turned back quickly to face her. "No, not at all. You may lead on."

The noble promptly curtsied again. "Of course, this way Princess Daphne."

Daphne looked at Bloom once again; it was as if her little sister's gaze hadn't moved away from her, even with all the fuss about her. She waved a little at her as she followed Lady Virginia.

She supressed her immediate emotions, and had found the courage to do so. Of course there would be another moment, perhaps even a better one to speak to one another, and with little distraction between them.

They had all the time in the world now to catch up on things.

* * *

**_Later that afternoon…_**

Tryst walked too briskly for someone supposedly aimless. He must have made at least three laps of the aristocratic quarter. But there was nothing he could do.

Around him, the various mansions, villas, and streets about the place boasted their centuries' layering of intrinsic decoration. For those fortunate enough to be granted passage into the bastion, they would find the scene complimented the majesty of the palace quite well with its vibrancy and serenity.

Of course the nobles of the capitol could afford to invest their time in such frivolous pursuits. Tryst had always felt that the metropolitan aristocrats were only ever interested in being lap-dogs of the royal family, entertaining themselves with pointless intrigue and gossip. The lords who presided over their wards, away from the jungles of the main cities, were the ones who did most of the work.

It sickened him.

But he was content to let such a fraudulent debacle exist; it was only a mere distraction in his work. And it did not matter what position he held, as long as it ensured that he possessed the authority to safeguard the realm. The future of the realm was all that he dedicated himself to. Let the infirm heirs of Orus keep their throne.

The legends of the god-emperor bored him, even as a child. He understood the value of culture, even the need for such a useless family. But it did not stop him from seeing it all as a hollow means to an end. And what had happened to his realm reaffirmed this. If his king and queen were truly such heroes supreme, then the planet would have not fallen. Their people would not have lost twenty years of their lives trapped in Obsidian. He would not have had to deal with finding those he loved move on, and die.

But all of that failure paled in comparison to the outrage about to ascend the throne.

He had heard of her exploits as saviour of the Magical Dimension, but to him it mattered little. If she had not made such powerful allies, no one would have even given her a single consideration. She was just a tool being used by the other realms to pry into the affairs of Sparks to draw future concessions.

All she had was a clueless, happy-go-lucky mentality when pressed for things. Perhaps not as atrocious as that Solarian Crown Princess, but she was just as dumb and fake, as he observed her in some gatherings, just like this morning. Maybe she had become a great magical warrior, but that was hardly a measure to rule. He refused to be ruled by a babe who showed blatant disregard for duty and honour; or at the least, only had a simpleton's grasp of such important notions.

If she really knew what it meant to rule, she would remain in Sparks and be taught the ways of her people. But that was such a nice consideration of her. If she were not the spitting image of her birth-mother, he would have written her off as an imposter already. He found it more acceptable to reinstate Daphne as Crown Princess; at least she had been raised properly.

So there had something to be wrong with her. He was always rarely wrong with such a business, and he would find the problem.

He would not have been able to claw his way to becoming Lord Governor of the South otherwise.

And also, the suspicions he had formulated was betrayed in her…

"Lord Tryst!"

The loud husky voice cleaved through the brume of his thoughts. He turned to see a man arrayed in the well-worn garb of a commander. The only lord in the Royal Guard whose wear actually sported the scars of battle.

"Lord Commander Arlen?" Tryst asked curiously as the aged soldier bowed. "You're a little far from the Royal Barracks."

"I could say the same for you, my Lord Governor. The distance between here and the Embassy is quite considerable."

"Is that so?" Tryst looked around him. "I hadn't noticed. Is there something wrong?"

"Not at all, this is the way to one of the main watchtowers. I was surprised to see a Lord Governor so far out here."

"Got lost in my thoughts I suppose. Besides a walk is quite refreshing." Tryst muttered.

"I cannot say I disagree with you there. But I had imagined you would have left the capitol for your Jurisdiction of the South by now." Arlen began to pace slowly, Tryst followed in suit and they walked beside one another.

"Oh, I can't. Other things keep me here, have you not been sitting in the defence meetings?"

"My presence in such discussions only considered honorary. I am no longer required to attend as captain of the Princessguard."

"A war hero demoted to babysitting our Crown Princess?" Tryst said incredulously.

Arlen's look soured slightly. "I do not consider my office to be one of ill repute. It is quite an honour, bearing in mind my advancing years. It in fact puzzles me immensely that no other commanders in the Royal Guard were keen to take up such a role."

Tryst eyed him for a second, but then spoke thoughtfully. "Forgive my comments. Even now you continue to take the shorter straw for the rest of us."

"No need my Lord Governor." Arlen sighed. "I have grown used to such prattle about my position to Orus' heir, it is understandable."

"No, it's not. But forgive me once again for being surprised at how highly you speak of your ward. Have you not spoken at least with her?"

"Unfortunately, I have not as yet made the Crown Princess' personal acquaintance, though I have stood by her on some ceremonial occasions. It should not be surprising that I would defend her honour though; she is of the house of Orus after all."

"Huh." Tryst was not certain of what to say next.

"But enough of me, what situation could possibly keep you in the capitol?"

Tryst walked quietly before continuing. "Our political and military situation continues to concern many a realm, and it's getting more difficult to keep issues separate. Everyone wants a piece of us, feels like it in any case."

"It could be worse for a kingdom that has been absent as long as ours." Arlen mused.

The lord felt a sudden urge to confide in the commander. After all, the old man was one of the only people who had his head screwed on in the capitol, and he had long admired him. But…

No. Arlen was too loyal to Orus' line to hear his objectives. For such a seasoned and tactful warrior, it was truly a shame.

He focused on his surroundings once more, even as he listened to the commander witter about important affairs. They had returned to one of the main squares of the district, and unexpectedly saw that someone was waiting for him in the shadow of an alleyway.

"Excuse me Lord Commander." Tryst said promptly, breaking whatever the old man was saying. "But I just remembered that I have pressing matters to take care of before the night is through. It is alright. I can find my way to the Embassy from here quite easily."

Arlen looked at Tryst expectedly. "Of course my Lord Governor. I was about to suggest something similar, routine checks need to be made on schedule. Good evening."

Tryst bowed in response. "A pleasure to meet you as always Lord Commander Arlen. Hopefully time will permit us to make a more pleasant exchange." he watched the commander walk away without a moment's hesitation and out of sight, and then headed towards the alleyway.

"I did not expect you to find me so quickly." Tryst whispered. "Where have you been?"

Lucas merely looked at him holding up a single data stick.

Raising an eyebrow, Tryst took the item from him as well as a data pad and plugged the thing in. For at least fifteen minutes he scrolled through the information. His digestion of the material's contents unobvious in the deserted square, oddly empty of people at this time of the afternoon.

He looked at his servant darkly, and very much satisfied.

How right could he always possibly be?


	14. Synthetics of a Mind

**~Chapter 14: Synthetics of a Mind~**

"I know you're pretending to sleep! Wake up!" the little girl tugged at her wrist. But she was way too comfortable. She knew she shouldn't care, but everything felt…as it should be, and she just wanted to savour it, because she could.

"No." she grumbled through her half-opened eyes.

"Come on! Everyone else is already downstairs and I want to eat!" the kid whined.

She could hear voices calling from the foot of the stairs and through the widening crack of her doorway. There was a lump growing in her chest.

"Just a couple of minutes."

"Mom! Big sis is being so lazy right now!"

"Hey! I'm not–" the little girl ripped the pillow and the bed-sheets simultaneously and sprinted off gleefully. "Oi!" she fell to the floor grasping after her lost pleasure, instead she got lost in discarded blankets. "You little imp!" she growled as the other screamed, almost in delight, clutching the pillow in both of her arms, thumping down the stairs.

"Gods!" she could hear a voice yelling from the kitchen as she scrambled after the thief. "Such runts. Your sister is already in college, she's too old to fool around with you like a wild animal!"

By that time, the little girl was already in the kitchen and both were downstairs. What her mother was beginning to say made her slow down a little. She pressed her body next to the wall out of their sight, her eyes falling to the little girl's shadow, clearly cast by the sunlight.

"Well, she's not in college anymore." the youth pouted.

She could hear something clang sharply. The glare her mother was giving she could picture quite clearly in her mind, and expected the silence.

"D-don't." her mother heaved. "T-this is only temporary, as soon as we finish moving, the first thing we're doing is sending you both back to school, don't talk to me as if I don't value your education."

"Mom! That isn't what I meant! Stop giving so many long answers!" the little girl bleated exasperatedly.

"Don't talk to me that way young lady!" her mother's voice rising, rasping with strain.

"I'm not! You're not even listening to me! I was just–"

"Don't talk to me that way!" their mother repeated, even more angrily.

She suddenly felt the urge to intervene, acting on impulse, but as she did so, there was property-damaging hammering on the front door. She could hear shouting even from the outside, as the howls from within subsided.

"Is that really necessary? I'm right here and I can get my family ready!"

"You get fifteen minutes then." a gruff uncaring voice replied.

"W-what? As in now?"

"You go now, or there will be cancellation payments to me made."

"A-are you serious?! I just paid you this morning, and in advance! This is incredibly unreasonable!"

"You're not in a position to order me or my employers. Fifteen minutes."

"Dad?" the little girl called, her feet pattering.

"Shhh!" the mother hissed, starting to move quickly.

"Dad!" the little girl screamed.

No, that wasn't right. She remembered that much of the day.

The little girl had run towards the door, but the shadow was still in that same position.

The great bulking silhouette behind the front door grew larger and larger, threatening to shatter everything within. Slowly, the pieces fell away. The world around her began to drain of colour and turn cracked and grey.

She had already been here.

The familiar voices plunged into an incomprehensible chorus of screaming and shouting. Spiralling down the funnelled wound, full of accusation, regret and death.

Even then, she wasn't sure what to do. She looked up and saw the roof disappearing under the shadow of the bulk rooted at the front door. But it wasn't terrifying at all.

Not like what was coming towards her from below, slowly and carefully, _something_ was emerging from the lower darkness as the solid surface beneath her turned to dust. Something outside of her, something that felt incredibly alive and dead to her at the same time.

Was it trying to connect with her? Was it a manifestation of her guilt? Why must she be tormented like this?

Her eyes at last tore open, emerging through the pain and cold sweat. Into the simpering darkness. Slowly, her aching sight adjusted to the dim lit room. Small, dark, and hollow.

It felt like she had awoken or gone to sleep in such a manner far more than once. But it hardly mattered if she could tell.

Where was she? She was scared to move, scared to try. Her mind was a haze of all sorts of things. The only thing she knew for certain was that she was hurting. The realisation allowed some of the numbness to slip away, and she became aware of the existence of her body once again.

It wasn't enough, life flickered in unstable forms. Black and white. Shifting between ripples of grey.

Unable to do anything. She abandoned trying to make sense of things, and just let her thoughts wander, as they should, it wasn't as though she could do anything else.

She was used to being that kind of powerless, and being proven wrong.

She was both most of the time.

Hopeless in love. The dashing squire Brandon whisked away by a Solarian royal leagues above them both. Regardless of how the two of them had moved on their separate ways, the result of her foolish misjudgements was there to stay, forever.

Unable to achieve. Despite her best intentions, it was never enough to make her qualify for anything. You could not make up for what you were born without. Justifying her existence achieved little, even when done by other people. If she had been more realistic about her potential, maybe…

A failure to her family. She should have stayed so close to them when it all happened. Then she wouldn't have to live like this.

Was that selfish? Of course it was.

The only thing left to her was dishonour. It was even pretentious to think she could have that.

She never questioned how the past shaped her present. Despite how it kept her frightened all the time. She simply…accepted it.

Or was it really subjugation?

She didn't want to deal with it. She had changed so little.

Minutes, hours, days, months, years…seconds. Time was inconceivable. Movement, touching, holding. The prickling of foreign objects and fabric alien to her flesh. Being alive her only clarity. Useless.

Trying to make sense, any sense was persistent agony.

It wasn't giving up. It wasn't failing to make meaning.

She was just tired of…feeling.

Again, she couldn't be any more than she was. Pathetic. Useless.

She couldn't go back.

But _real life_ was too much. Hard to get things. Far easier to lose things. Too many things to lose.

She really had lost everything.

Eyelids drooping, the physical world around her slowly collapsed into a dim, colourless emptiness. Blackness creeping.

As if drowning in more and more work was the remedy to turn her into magical genius. She tried, but she wasn't very imaginative, she didn't have that…edge, even if she knew what was dependent on her success.

No. She didn't know anything at all. Liar.

The sickly skin stretched over her bones crinkled under spastic twitches.

It was all so wrong.

But _she_ knew. The starlit-sapphire-eyed bitch knew of her falling to pieces. In every predictable detail, she knew without ever knowing her to that degree.

She could almost feel herself fume at the thought. Was that something that could make her an individual? She blinked up at the figure presiding over her. She just had to be the only person to draw her from a death-like state. Was she trying to speak to her? Was she interacting with the person subconsciously, unaware of the progress being made?

No. It was all instinct. The ingrained habits of a sheltered life that made her presume such…kindness.

She should have learned by now that anything on her part made nothing happen.

Everything was different now.

Reason was gone, everything was danger. Everything had to be escaped from.

If panic could be liquid spilling over the brim of a cracked glass...which could lend her clarity.

Her eyes registered the figure's distraction, her distancing movements and an open door. She alone, as the more important people went about their business. Forgetting her, not needing her. She should get away…

All she could think of was running.

So she did, right through the half-made reality of shifting blackness.

The physical world around her collapsed into a dim, colourless emptiness.

But before she could even really react to this drastic change of scenery, the figure emerged again. It was wrapt in swirling tendrils of shadow and still not in a viable form.

She tried running, but she found herself unable to look away or command her own body for that matter. She could only look at it in stupefied fright.

Suddenly her brain was pommelled with barrages of noise. She grasped her head and writhed on her side. The speeches were painful again, full of rejection and embarrassment.

_"Who is this?"_

Then they became distinguishable words, and so the voices changed. They weren't the same voices of her youth, they were too soft to be familiar, and they tumbled in and out of her mind, like an unconscious rendering of scraps from the present, back-the-front and inside-out.

_"It's quite late. I believe that neither of us needs to have a run-around on the subject."_

The figure watched her struggle to comprehend. Shilly noted its head titled in polite mockery.

_"How did you know about this?"_

She was trapped, she fell backwards, trying to back away. The figure kept looking at her, as if in total control of the situation.

_"You presume too much of me. One must wear the charms of their life, regardless of how burdensome they can become."_

_"Kind noble, your tasteful addresses are truly shameful to one such as myself."_

There were disturbing whispers, she could tell it was the figure's, she couldn't hear them though. She wasn't sure what they meant. The figure was too foreboding to be taken as a friend, it clearly wanted something.

_"I suppose it's pointless to ask for your discretion."_

_"Naturally your highness, there are elements within the court and beyond who will not take kindly to this…discourse. But it is hardly my business. You are entitled to exercise private authority in your own affairs. "_

What did it want? She kept on backing away, the figure seemed to become more distant.

_"No, I'll take responsibility for her. I promised her that much. I suppose I should thank you for that."_

It wasn't moving, it was just staying in the same spot. Did that mean she could escape it?

_"I still don't really understand why you must do this. Is there something underneath that girlish exterior that makes you want to draw her to yourself in this manner?"_

Maybe she should question it

_"…it is a whim. That's all there is."_

She scrambled up

Shilly's eyes were wide open and couldn't see anything.

Then reality hit her sharply. She was tumbling and falling uncontrollably over jagged roughness before cleaving air and coming to a splat on the dense ground. She could feel things spilling; it didn't take too much to think of how her body was probably an absolute mess.

Everything that had just happened instantly became meaningless.

She was such a dreamer.

Shilly's head throbbed and oozed but in between the batters of her eyelids another figure steadily approached.

It was Bloom, clear in the moonlight, a strange solemn expression fixed on her face.

She was a princess.

"I'm sorry for all that's happened. But I'm certain you're really dying now." she kept her distance. "What do you want to do about it?"

She was a monster.

"Do you want me to save you?"

Yet she was neither of those things. A stranger.

"Do you?"

The stranger who held her life in the palm of her hand. On her knee, smoothing it contentedly, her gaze directed at towards the sky.

"W-why…" Shilly now felt an obligation to say something. Anything. But it wasn't enough. Once again driven into a dreamless sleep.

Something that could be described far more wonderfully than what it really was.


End file.
